II. WIND AND WAVE.
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he wedded light and heat,Winnowing the witless space,Without a let,What are they till they beatAgainst the sleepy sod, and there begetPerchance the violet!Is the One found,Amongst a wilderness of as happy grace,To make Heaven's bound;So that in HerAll which it hath of sensitively goodIs sought and understoodAfter the narrow mode the mighty Heavens prefer?She, as a little breezeFollowing still Night,Ripples the spirit's cold, deep seasInto delight;But, in a while,The immeasurable smileIs broke by fresher airs to flashes blentWith darkling discontent;And all the subtle zephyr hurries gay,And all the heaving ocean heaves one way,'Tward the void sky-line and an unguess'd weal;Until the vanward billows feelThe agitating shallows, and divine the goal,And to foam roll,And spread and strayAnd traverse wildly, like delighted hands,The fair and feckless sands;And so the wholeUnfathomable and immenseTriumphing tide comes at the last to reachAnd burst in wind-kiss'd splendours on the deaf'ning beach,Where forms of children in first innocenceLaugh and fling pebbles on the rainbow'd crestOf its untired unrest.
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