Cleave thou the waves that weltering to and fro 
Surge multitudinous. The eternal Powers 
Of sun, moon, stars, the air, the hurrying hours, 
The winged winds, the still dissolving show 
Of clouds in calm or storm, for ever flow 
Above thee; while the abysmal sea devours 
The untold dead insatiate, where it lowers 
O'er glooms unfathomed, limitless, below. 

No longer on the golden-fretted sands, 
Where many a shallow tide abortive chafes, 
Mayst thou delay; life onward sweeping blends 
With far-off heaven: the dauntless one who braves 
The perilous flood with calm unswerving hands, 
The elements sustain: cleave thou the waves.