Denis Florence MacCarthy

(26 May 1817 - 7 April 1882 / Dublin / Ireland)

Over The Sea - Poem by Denis Florence MacCarthy

Sad eyes! why are ye steadfastly gazing
Over the sea?
Is it the flock of the ocean-shepherd grazing
Like lambs on the lea?-
Is it the dawn on the orient billows blazing
Allureth ye?

Sad heart! why art thou tremblingly beating-
What troubleth thee?
There where the waves from the fathomless water come greeting,
Wild with their glee!
Or rush from the rocks, like a routed battalion retreating,
Over the sea!

Sad feet! why are ye constantly straying
Down by the sea?
There, where the winds in the sandy harbour are playing
Child-like and free,
What is the charm, whose potent enchantment obeying,
There chaineth ye?

O! sweet is the dawn, and bright are the colours it glows in,
Yet not to me!
To the beauty of God's bright creation my bosom is frozen!
Nought can I see,
Since she has departed-the dear one, the loved one, the chosen,
Over the sea!

Pleasant it was when the billows did struggle and wrestle,
Pleasant to see!
Pleasant to climb the tall cliffs where the sea birds nestle,
When near to thee!
Nought can I now behold but the track of thy vessel
Over the sea!

Long as a Lapland winter, which no pleasant sunlight cheereth,
The summer shall be
Vainly shall autumn be gay, in the rich robes it weareth,
Vainly for me!
No joy can I feel till the prow of thy vessel appeareth
Over the sea!

Sweeter than summer, which tenderly, motherly bringeth
Flowers to the bee;
Sweeter than autumn, which bounteously, lovingly flingeth
Fruits on the tree,
Shall be winter, when homeward returning, thy swift vessel wingeth
Over the sea!


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Poem Submitted: Monday, September 27, 2010



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