Here on this sea-beach I wander...

Here on this sea-beach I wander; Why of the storms am I fonder Than of the sunlight above them? And the clouds: why do I love them— Waves of the sky, onward sweeping, Or to the ocean-waves leaping? Why do I court this fierce day, Dashing my face full of spray? Why, when the waves strike the shore With their strong, leonine roar, Does my soul fiercely entreat them— Rush out with rapture to meet them? Why do I love to descry War in the fields of the sky? Why does the chain-lightning's glare, Ploughing blue meadows of air, Look to my vision alway Sweet as a star in the day?

You who in fair summer weather Seek this sea-city together (Built for tumultuous rest, With the famed ocean chief guest), Not half the pleasure you've known That I, here wand'ring alone, On these wet sand-fields have found, Hearing the ocean's own sound, Viewing fierce waves from afar Strive with the winter in war. Storms that tumultuously roll Far through my innermost soul— Here you encounter, at last, Harmonies wondrous and vast!

What did I find on the shore? Must I rehearse it once more?