'Thou great strong sea, fast lock'd in dreams,
Clouds journeying to and fro,
Whose tender blue the stars come through,
I can but love ye so!
'Ye take possession of my heart,
And all my life renew;
Like grain of dust I grow a part,
A small stray part of you.
'Thy sounds, O storm, are far and faint,
As thou stridest over the sea;
And we need thy breath from many a taint
To set us clean and free.
'But when thou comest on mighty wings,
Deal gently with forest and tree,
For my heart is woe for the goodly things
That to-morrow will cease to be.
'Yes! I shall go and you will dream,
And drink the pale blue sky,
Beneath the hill that hugs you round
As silver days go by.
'When others come your love to claim,
You still, you pale blue sea,
Oh, shall you mean for them the same,
That once you meant for me?
'And shall they look on you with eyes
As tender true as mine,
And love each changing gleam that flies
Across that face of thine?'
I dislike the translation of expression from one art to another,
otherwise I would call these verses impressionist. They have the
quickly-captured forms, the frail fugitive colour, the infinite
suggestiveness, which are the notes of the highest impressionism in
painting.