Soft is thy rest, O silent sea,
To thy farthest moonlit rim
There comes no sign nor sound to me
Save that eternal hymn
Which in the dim age of thy birth
God taught thee how to sing
O'er watching night and the sleeping earth,
As through their course they swing.
Sweet is thy light, O silver sea,
Under the cold cloud-bars
The moon's broad glory seems to me
The pathway to the stars.
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