Leviathan
BETWIXT the bleak rock and the barren shore
Rolled miles of hoary waves that hissed with frost,
And from the bitter north with sullen roar
Swept the wild wind, and the wild water tossed.
In the cold sky, hard, pitiless, and drear,
The sun dropped down; but ere the world grew gray
A sweet, reluctant rose-tint, sad and clear,
Stained icy crags and leagues of leaping spray.
Midway between the lone rock and the shore
A fountain fair sprang skyward suddenly,
And sudden fell, and yet again once more
The column rose, and sank into the sea.
Silent, ethereal, mystic, delicate,
Flushed with delicious glow of fading rose,
It grew and vanished, like some genie great,
Some wild, thin phantom, woven of winter snows.
'T was the foam-fountain of the mighty whale,
Rising each time more far and faint and dim.
All his huge strength against the thundering gale
He set; no hurricane could hinder him!
There came to me a gladness in the sight,
A pleasure in the thought of life so strong,
Daring the elements, and making light
Of winter’s wrathful power of wreck and wrong.
I gloried in his triumph o’er the vast
Blind rage of Nature. All her awful force,
The terror of her tempest full she cast
Against him, yet he kept his ponderous course.
For her worst fury he nor stayed nor turned.
'T was joy to think in such tremendous play,
Through the sea’s cruelty, all unconcerned,
Leviathan pursued his placid way!
