"STORMS!" said the Sea. "In calm weather I lie still and sleep, or,
now and then, say a few quiet words to the beaches I ripple on, or
the boats which glide through my waters. But in the tempest you learn
what my voice is, when all my slumbering powers awake, and I thunder
through the caverns, and rush with all my battle-music on the rocks,
whilst, between the grand artillery of my breakers, the wind peals its
wild trumpet-peals, and the waters rush back to my breast from the
cliffs they have scaled, in torrents and cascades, like the voices of
a thousand rivers. My music is battle-music. STORMS make me musical,"
said the Sea.