ON A HIGH PART OF THE COAST OF CUMBERLAND
Easter Sunday, April 7
THE AUTHOR'S SIXTY-THIRD BIRTHDAY
The lines were composed on the road between Moresby and
Whitehaven while I was on a visit to my son, then rector of the
former place. This and some other Voluntaries originated in the
concluding lines of the last paragraph of this poem. With this
coast I have been familiar from my earliest childhood, and
remember being struck for the first time by the town and port of
Whitehaven, and the white waves breaking against its quays and
piers, as the whole came into view from the top of the high ground
down which the road (it has since been altered) then descended
abruptly. My sister, when she first heard the voice of the sea
from this point, and beheld the scene spread before her, burst
into tears. Our family then lived at Cockermouth, and this fact
was often mentioned among us as indicating the sensibility for
which she was so remarkable.
THE Sun, that seemed so mildly to retire,
Flung back from distant climes a streaming fire,
Whose blaze is now subdued to tender gleams,
Prelude of night's approach with soothing dreams.
Look round;--of all the clouds not one is moving;
'Tis the still hour of thinking, feeling, loving.
Silent, and stedfast as the vaulted sky,
The boundless plain of waters seems to lie:--
Comes that low sound from breezes rustling o'er
The grass-crowned headland that conceals the shore?
No; 'tis the earth-voice of the mighty sea,
Whispering how meek and gentle he 'can' be!
Thou Power supreme! who, arming to rebuke
Offenders, dost put off the gracious look,
And clothe thyself with terrors like the flood
Of ocean roused into its fiercest mood,
Whatever discipline thy Will ordain
For the brief course that must for me remain;
Teach me with quick-eared spirit to rejoice
In admonitions of thy softest voice!
Whate'er the path these mortal feet may trace,
Breathe through my soul the blessing of thy grace,
Glad, through a perfect love, a faith sincere
Drawn from the wisdom that begins with fear,
Glad to expand; and, for a season, free
From finite cares, to rest absorbed in Thee!