Chambers's Edinburgh Journal, No. 425

BY THE SEA

by calder campbell

 
When tired of towns, and pining sore
For change to healthful ground,
Thou turn'st from crowds—still at the core
Feeling thy heart's worst wound—
When thou hast knocked at every door,
Yet no admittance found:
At every door where Pleasure in
Glides, with a sunny grace,
But which thine own bale barreth up
From thee—then seek a place
Where gates of stone and brass are none
To frown thee in the face!
 
 
The woods have walks, where thou mayst find
A balm to salve thy grief;
And in and out where waters wind,
Are sources of relief,
In which, if thou wilt bathe the mind,
Thou'lt have no comfort brief,
But peace—that falleth like the dew!
For everything that shews
God's sunshine speaketh marvels true
Of mercy and repose,
And joy, in rural scenes, beyond
All that the loud world knows!
 
 
Yet more, than wood or woodland rill
Can give of keen delight,
We glean from ocean-margins, till
The spirit—at the sight
Of all its range of changeful change—
Becometh, like it, bright!
Bright when the sunlight on it falls,
Or grave and grand when, dark,
The shadowy night lets down its pall
Upon each human ark;
And every surge seems but to urge
Extinction of life's spark!
 
 
A change, an always active change,
An everness of grace,
Of grace and grandeur, takes its range
Over the ocean's face:
As in a book for thoughts men look,
Thoughts in it we can trace!
A thought to turn us from ourselves
And all our petty cares—
A thought to move the spirit's love
To God, and God's affairs;
And thereby give to all that live
The sympathy that spares—
 
 
That spares our brother man from blame,
And pities him when o'er
His nature come such clouds of shame
As menaced us before:
God only can the sea-swell tame,
The mental peace restore!
Look on the ocean, then, and feel
Its turmoil and its calm
Arouse or tranquillise thy mind—
A stimulant or balm;
A thundertone to make thee think,
Or, gently soothing psalm!