and
towers
Quivering
within
the
wave’s
intenser
day，
All
overgrown
with
azure
moss
and
flowers
So
sweet，the
sense
faints
picturing
them!Thou
For
whose
path
the
Atlantic’s
level
powers
Cleave
themselves
into
chasms，while
far
below
The
sea-blooms
and
the
oozy
woods
which
wear
The
sapless
foliage
of
the
ocean，know
Thy
voice，and
suddenly
grow
gray
with
fear，
And
tremble
and
despoil
themselves:
O
hear!
If
I
were
a
dead
leaf
thou
mightest
bear;
If
I
were
a
swift
cloud
to
fly
with
thee;
A
wave
to
pant
beneath
thy
power，and
share
The
impulse
of
thy
strength，only
less
free
Than
thou，O
uncontrollable!
If
even
I
were
as
in
my
boyhood，and
could
be
The
comrade
of
thy
wanderings
over
Heaven，
As
then，when
to
outstrip
thy
skiey
speed
Scarce
seemed
a
vision;I
would
ne’er
have
striven
As
thus
with
thee
in
prayer
in
my
sore
need.
O，lift
me
as
a
wave，a
leaf，a
cloud!
I
fall
upon
the
thorns
of
life!
I
bleed!
A
heavy
weight
of
hours
has
chained
and
bowed
One
too
like
thee:
tameless，and
swift，and
proud.
Make
me
thy
lyre，even
as
the
forest
is:
What
if
my
leaves
are
falling
like
its
own!
The
tumult
of
thy
mighty
harmonies
Will
take
from
both
a
deep，autumnal
tone，
Sweet
though
in
sadness.
Be
thou，Spirit
fierce，
My
spirit!
Be
thou
me，impetuous
one!
Drive
my
dead
thoughts
over
the
universe
Like
withered
leaves
to
quicken
a
new
birth!
And，by
the
incantation
of
this
verse，
Scatter，as
from
an
unextinguished
hearth