Sudden and swift the mountains rise, Smiting the heavens free; Close at their heads are the sun-swept skies, And close at their feet—the sea. For the fleet waves race past the mountains' base To the calm of the pine-fringed bay; They come from the deeps where the tempest sweeps Round dim isles far away. Now the waves are black with the storm-wind's track, They are green as a mermaid's eyes, When faint stars shine they are crimson wine, They are wan when the daylight dies. On the rocks they moan in a sullen tone, Like wolves on the beach they leap, They ripple and sigh in a lullaby Charming a child to sleep. In the loveless day when the skies are gray, The sea is a widow old; Beneath the moon, she's a bride of June, Glowing in cloth of gold. But the peaks are unmoved by the plundering storm, Unthrilled by the moonlight's lure. What change can they know, what passion's glow, Those mountains strong and sure? Safe on the hill you may rest who will, But the waves weave a spell for me; Where the tide runs high, where the shrill gulls cry, I follow the restless sea. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...I'M GOING BACK TO SOMETHING by DAVID IGNATOW DOMESDAY BOOK: CONSIDER FREELAND by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |