The lulled waters swell and murmur low
Beneath the crags and cliffs and come to rest
Upon the shingle in their homeward flow
And kiss the beach now rosy with the west.
The sea-gulls homeward make their wheeling flight
Into the caves and ledges of the shore;
A rowing boat, fair craft in ruby light,
Drifts lazily past to dip of languid oar.
The ocean is a mighty lake of wine
And through it runs a narrow band of gold;
Now as the sun sinks down its light divine
Is changed to red, and the sea’s face is cold.
Now there the sun upon the wave doth ride
A blood-red path to it is driving far,
Like life to God, with death on either side,
And life itself fades with the lovely star!