NO MORE SEA.

Gently swelling, wildly dashing O'er yon island- studded scene; Summer Ocean, how I'll miss thee, Miss the thunder of thy roar, Miss the music of thy ripple,

Miss thy sorrow- soothing shore, Summer ocean, how I'll miss thee,

When the sea shall be no more." Summer Ocean, how I'll miss thee,

As along thy strand I range; Or as here I sit and watch thee In thy moods of endless change, Mirthful moods of morning gladness, Musing moods of sunset sadness; When the dying winds caress thee, And the sinking sunbeams kiss thee, And the crimson cloudlets press thee, And all nature seems to bless thee!­Summer Ocean, how I'll miss thee,

Miss the wonders of thy shore, Miss the magic of thy grandeur, When" the sea shall be no more."

And yet sometimes in my musings, When I think of what shall be; In the day of earth's new glory, Still I seem to roam by thee. As if all had not departed,

But the glory lingered still; As if that which made thee lovely, Had remained unchangeable.

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