Opening Stanza of "Pleseant Water"
A HEAVY northeast gale has blown
In Ipswich Bay since yestermorn;
This morn the long, white beach is strown
With dark, gray lines of seaweed, torn
By the rough billows from its bed,
And cast high up the shore, where now,
Left by the tide, it lies outspread,
Like dark hair on a snowy brow.
And on the bar at Pleasant Water
The waves like angry demons foam,
Or savage warriors, seeking slaughter,
They heave, they roll, they leap, they comb,
And madly on the sand-bar break,
That stretches seaward from the beach, —
A fair, white arm from fairer neck
The bride cloth to her bridegroom reach.