
lirik lagu gideon wagner - the dark blue sea - lord byron
there is a pleasure in the pathless woods
there is a rapture on the lonely shore
there is society where none intrudes
by the deep sea, and music in its roar:
i love not man the less, but nature more
from these our interviews, in which i steal
from all i may be, or have been before
to mingle with the universe, and feel
what i can ne’er express, yet cannot all conceal.~
roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean~roll!
ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain;
man marks the earth with ruin~his control
stops with the shore;~upon the watery plain
the wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain
a shadow of man’s ravage, save his own
when for a moment, like a drop of rain
he sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan
without a grave, unknell’d, uncoffin’d, and unknown
his steps are not upon thy paths~thy fields
are not a spoil for him~thou dost arise
and shake him from thee; the vile strength he wields
for earth’s destruction thou dost all despise
spurning him from thy bosom to the skies
and send’st him, shivering in thy playful spray
and howling, to his gods, where haply lies
his petty hope in some near port or bay
and dashest him again to earth: there let him lay
the armaments which thunderstrike the walls
of rock~built cities, bidding nations quake
and monarchs tremble in their capitals
the oak leviathans, whose huge ribs make
their clay creator the vain title take
of lord of thee, and arbiter of war;
these are thy toys, and, as the snowy flake
they melt into thy yeast of waves, which mar
alike the armada’s pride, or spoils of trafalgar
thy shores are empires, changed in all save thee~
assyria, greece, rome, carthage, what are they?
thy waters washed them power while they were free
and many a tyrant since: their shores obey
the stranger, slave or savage; their decay
has dried up realms to deserts:~not so thou
unchangeable, save to thy wild waves’ play~
time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow~
such as creation’s dawn beheld, thou rollest now
thou glorious mirror, where the almighty’s form
glasses itself in tempests; in all time
calm or convulsed~in breeze, or gale, or storm
icing the pole, or in the torrid clime
dark~heaving; boundless, endless and sublime~
the image of eternity~the throne
of the invisible; even from out thy slime
the monsters of the deep are made; each zone
obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone
and i have loved thee, ocean! and my joy
of youthful sports was on thy breast to be
borne, like thy bubbles, onward: from a boy
i wanton’d with thy breakers~they to me
were a delight; and if the freshening sea
made them a terror~’twas a pleasing fear
for i was as it were a child of thee
and trusted to thy billows far and near
and laid my hand upon thy mane ~ as i do here
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