THE OCEAN'S MOAN.

Last night the ocean's moan Was to my ears The deep sad undertone Of vanished years, Bearing a burden, A bliss unattained, A strife and a longing, A life sad and pained, To the shores vast and free Of eternity's sea. But in that undertone Of restless pain, Came at length a monotone Of sweet refrain, Bearing a passion Long known to the sea— Told in moments of silence A sad heart to free— To be borne me some day In the ocean's own way. And this rare monotone Of mystery Was now that passion-moan Of secrecy, Bearing, "I love her, My moaning ne'er'll cease Till she on my breast Findeth love's perfect peace; Till she on my breast Findeth love's perfect rest." Oh, is there tenderer tone For mortal ear, Than such a monotone, Distinct and clear, Bearing its comfort, Its heavenly peace, Its help for all sorrow, Its heart-pain release, To a soul waiting long For love's tender, true song? And now the ocean's moan Is to my ears The dearest undertone Of all the years, Bearing a memory, A sweet bliss attained, A gratified longing, A life's joys regained, To the shores vast and free Of eternity's sea.