Excerpt
A CHANNEL PASSAGE 1855 Forth from Calais, at dawn of night, when sunset summer on autumn shone,Fared the steamer alert and loud through seas whence only the sun was gone:Soft and sweet as the sky they smiled, and bade man welcome: a dim sweet hourGleamed and whispered in wind and sea, and heaven was fair as a field in flower.Stars fulfilled the desire of the darkling world as with music: the starbright airMade the face of the sea, if aught may make the face of the sea, more fair. Whence came change? Was the sweet night weary of rest? What anguish awoke in the dark?Sudden, sublime, the strong storm spake: we heard the thunders as hounds that bark.Lovelier if aught may be lovelier than stars, we saw the lightnings exalt the sky,Living and lustrous and rapturous as love that is born but to quicken and lighten and die.Heaven's own heart at its highest of delight found utterance in music and semblance in fire:Thunder on thunder exulted, rejoicing to live and to satiate the night's desire. And the night was alive and anhungered of life as a tiger from toils cast free:And a rapture of rage made joyous the spirit and strength of the soul of the sea.All the weight of the wind bore down on it, freighted with death for fraught:And the keen waves kindled and quickened as things transfigured or things distraught.And madness fell on them laughing and leaping; and madness came on the wind:And the might and the light and the darkness of storm were as storm in the heart of Ind.Such glory, such terror, such passion, as lighten and harrow the far fierce East,Rang, shone, spake, shuddered around us: the night was an altar with death for priest.The channel that sunders England from shores where never was man born freeWas clothed with the likeness and thrilled with the strength and the wrath of a tropic sea.As a wild steed ramps in rebellion, and rears till it swerves from a backward fall,The strong ship struggled and reared, and her deck was upright as a sheer cliff's wall.Stern and prow plunged under, alternate: a glimpse, a recoil, a breath,And she sprang as the life in a god made man would spring at the throat of death.Three glad hours, and it seemed not an hour of supreme and supernal joy,Filled full with delight that revives in remembrance a sea-bird's heart in a boy.For the central crest of the night was cloud that thundered and flamed, sublimeAs the splendour and song of the soul everlasting that quickens the pulse of time.The glory beholden of man in a vision, the music of light overheard,The rapture and radiance of battle, the life that abides in the fire of a word,In the midmost heaven enkindled, was manifest far on the face of the sea,And the rage in the roar of the voice of the waters was heard but when heaven breathed free.Far eastward, clear of the covering of cloud, the sky laughed out into lightFrom the rims of the storm to the sea's dark edge with flames that were flowerlike and white.The leaping and luminous blossoms of live sheet lightning that laugh as they fadeFrom the cloud's black base to the black wave's brim rejoiced in the light they made....