“Am Meer.



The long moan of the monotonous sea,1
And ceaseless wash of never-ending waves ;2
The roll of foaming billows thro’ dim caves3
Skirting the unknown shores ; and hushfully4
The lisp of lapping wavelets in soft glee5
About the moonlit sands. No wild wind raves6
Above the solemn waste ; the night is still7
save the sea-sound and casual sea-bird’s shrill.8
Hark ! the moan grows into a troubled cry,9
The billows plash more suddenly, and leap10
Like startled herds that plunge before they fly ;11
A weird wind riseth swiftly and doth sweep12
The salt send from each wave-top towards the sky,13
And the great sea awaketh from its sleep.14


The wild wind wails above the foaming seas,15
The billows break in swirling clouds of white,16
The sickly moon, cloud- hidden, scarce gives light,17
And the dense mists are blown to shreds of fleece ;18
The whole sea panteth for a wild release,19
Like some great brute with fleeing prey in sight ;20
And the harsh echo from the surf-beat shore21
Blends with the boom where the great caverns roar.22
Hush ! the wind shivers, moans, and dies away !23
The foam-wreath’d billows now no longer flee24
Along the dismal track of swirling spray.25
The stars come forth and shimmer mournfully.26
There is no sound at all but the soft sway27
Of long waves breathing on the sleeping sea.28