I want a house by the beach with a writing window facing the lake, a good woman to make love to, two daughters at bedtime to read to, and always I want to hear this because…
It keeps eternal whisperings around
Desolate shores, and with its mighty swell
Gluts twice ten thousand Caverns, till the spell
Of Hecate leaves them their old shadowy sound.
Often ‘tis in such gentle temper found,
That scarcely will the very smallest shell
Be mov’d for days from where it sometime fell,
When last the winds of Heaven were unbound.
Oh ye! who have your eye-balls vex’d and tir’d,
Feast them upon the wideness of the Sea’
Oh ye! whose ears are dinn’d with uproar rude,
Or fed too much with cloying melody---
Sit ye near some old Cavern’s Mouth and brood,
Until ye start, as if some sea-nymphs quir’d!
On the Sea