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Classic and Contemporary Poetry


SONNET: 7 by GEORGE CABOT LODGE

First Line: MINE IS THE BELLOWING, ALL-RECEIVING SEA
Last Line: BREATHE THRO' THE SOUL THE EPIC VOICE OF STORM.

Mine is the bellowing, all-receiving sea,
Mine the long beaches blurred with drifted foam,
Mine the blind earth, the human lights of home,
The midnight shuddering, deepening endlessly.
Mine is the world to-night! Yea! Mine shall be
Vistas and vaster worlds, a certain dower,
When after faith, free love and conscious power,.
Soul dares desire its own infinity.
Naught can be asked or given for all is ours:
Ours of all space the cold incessant miles,
Ours of all time the full, unstinting hours;
And ours the sea beyond, that round the warm
Shores of our being whiles will sleep and whiles
Breathe thro' the soul the epic voice of storm.



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