Song of the Sea

I hate swung for ages to and fro;
I have striven in vain to reach thy feet,
O garden of joy! whose walls are low,
And odors are so sweet.

I palpitate with fitful love;
I sigh and sing with changing breath;
I raise my hands to heaven above,
I smite my shores beneath!

In vain, in vain! while far and fine,
To curb the madness of my sweep,
Runs the white limit of a line
I may not overleap.

Once thou wert sleeping on my breast,
Till fiery Titans lifted thee
From the fair silence of thy rest,
Out of the loving sea.

And I swing eternal to and fro;
I strive in vain to reach thy feet,
garden of joy! whose walls are low,
And odors are so sweet!