FAILURE TRIUMPHANT
How many a captain wave, since sea began,Has lordly led the charge against the shore,Whose crest a jewelled plume of rainbow bore,As iris Hope arches the march of Man:How many a wave, brave-glittering in the van,Has melted as a cloud in spray and roar—A flashing column prone, and next, no more!So runs the tale, since Time’s first sand outran.So ends the antique tale. Stay! ends it so?Though every billow faint into a ghost,The all-embracing ocean—that gives birth,Receives, and recreates—in ebb and flow,A vast sky-coupled Mystery round the coast,Works out its will upon the face of earth.
How many a captain wave, since sea began,Has lordly led the charge against the shore,Whose crest a jewelled plume of rainbow bore,As iris Hope arches the march of Man:How many a wave, brave-glittering in the van,Has melted as a cloud in spray and roar—A flashing column prone, and next, no more!So runs the tale, since Time’s first sand outran.So ends the antique tale. Stay! ends it so?Though every billow faint into a ghost,The all-embracing ocean—that gives birth,Receives, and recreates—in ebb and flow,A vast sky-coupled Mystery round the coast,Works out its will upon the face of earth.
How many a captain wave, since sea began,Has lordly led the charge against the shore,Whose crest a jewelled plume of rainbow bore,As iris Hope arches the march of Man:How many a wave, brave-glittering in the van,Has melted as a cloud in spray and roar—A flashing column prone, and next, no more!So runs the tale, since Time’s first sand outran.So ends the antique tale. Stay! ends it so?Though every billow faint into a ghost,The all-embracing ocean—that gives birth,Receives, and recreates—in ebb and flow,A vast sky-coupled Mystery round the coast,Works out its will upon the face of earth.
How many a captain wave, since sea began,
Has lordly led the charge against the shore,
Whose crest a jewelled plume of rainbow bore,
As iris Hope arches the march of Man:
How many a wave, brave-glittering in the van,
Has melted as a cloud in spray and roar—
A flashing column prone, and next, no more!
So runs the tale, since Time’s first sand outran.
So ends the antique tale. Stay! ends it so?
Though every billow faint into a ghost,
The all-embracing ocean—that gives birth,
Receives, and recreates—in ebb and flow,
A vast sky-coupled Mystery round the coast,
Works out its will upon the face of earth.