Or view the lord of the unerring bow,
    The god of life, and poesy, and light.—­
    The sun in human limbs arrayed, and brow
    All radiant from his triumph in the fight;
    The shaft hath just been shot,—­the arrow bright
    With an immortal’s vengeance; in his eye
    And nostril beautiful disdain, and might
    And majesty, flash their full lightnings by,
  Developing in that one glance the Deity.

    But in his delicate form—­a dream of love,
    Shaped by some solitary nymph, whose breast
    Longed for a deathless lover from above,
    And maddened in that vision—­are exprest
    All that ideal beauty ever blessed
    The mind within its most unearthly mood,
    When each conception was a heavenly guest,
    A ray of immortality, and stood,
  Starlike, around, until they gathered to a god!
Childe Harold, Canto IV.  LORD BYRON.

SEA.

  Ocean! great image of eternity,
  And yet of fleeting time, of change, unrest,
  Thou vast and wondrous realm of mystery,
  Of thy great teachings too is man possessed. 
  Type of God’s boundless might, the here and there
  Uniting, thou dost with a righteous fear
  Man’s heart ennoble, awe, and purify,
  As in thy mighty, multitudinous tones echoes of God roll by.
Nature and Man.  J.W.  MILES.

  What are the wild waves saying,
    Sister, the whole day long,
  That ever amid our playing
    I hear but their low, lone song?
What are the Wild Waves Saying?  J.B.  CARPENTER.

  The land is dearer for the sea,
  The ocean for the shore.
On the Beach.  L. LARCOM.

Distinct as the billows, yet one as the sea. The Ocean.  J. MONTGOMERY.

                              There the sea I found
  Calm as a cradled child in dreamless slumber bound.
The Revolt of Islam, Canto I.  P.B.  SHELLEY.

And there, where the smooth, wet pebbles be,
The waters gurgle longingly,
As if they fain would seek the shore,
To be at rest from the ceaseless roar,
To be at rest forevermore.
The Sirens.  J.R.  LOWELL.

                            I am as a weed,
  Flung from the rock, on Ocean’s foam, to sail
  Where’er the surge may sweep, the tempest’s breath prevail.
Don Juan, Canto III.  LORD BYRON.

Watching the waves with all their white crests dancing
Come, like thick-plumed squadrons, to the shore
Gallantly bounding.
Julian.  SIR A. HUNT.

Once more upon the waters! yet once more! 
And the waves behind beneath me as a steed
That knows his rider.
Don Juan, Canto III.  LORD BYRON. 
I saw him beat the surges under him,
And ride upon their backs; he trod the water,
Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted
The surge most swoln that met him.
The Tempest, Act ii.  Sc. 1.  SHAKESPEARE.