III. Ballad.† If ever my wild spirit burns Ungovernably bright, And every human trammel spurns As summer breezes light, Laughs at the hollow herd it scorns, And revels in its might— † Suggested while swimming in Bantry Bay, Ireland. It is when casting off in mirth The garments of a man’s shame— Standing a moment on the earth As debtless and the same As when I owed her at my birth, Not even that sound, my name— I spring forth from her rocky side Into the moaning sea ; That crash and clash of waters wide Is music unto me ! How the bold billows that I ride Career it gallantly ! And how my buoyant senses bound To feel themselves abroad Upon the waves that roll around The mountain thrones of God, ’Mid surges that in thunder sound Beneath his tempest rod ! O could I stem the worlds dark wave As fearlessly and free As thus my watery way I cleave ! But it may never be— Then give me back the billows brave ! Their wings of foam for me !