And the grand old sea invited me With a million beckoning hands, And I spread my wings for a flight as free As ever a sailor plans When his thoughts are wild and his heart beguiled With the dreams of foreign lands. I passed a ship on its homeward trip, With a weary and toil-worn crew; And I kissed their flag with a welcome lip, And so glad a gale I blew That the sailors quaffed their grog and laughed At the work I made them do. I drifted by where sea-groves lie Like brides in the fond caress Of the warm sunshine and the tender sky-- Where the ocean, passionless And tranquil, lies like a child whose eyes Are blurred with drowsiness. I drank the air and the perfume there, And bathed in a fountain's spray; And I smoothed the wings and the plumage rare Of a bird for his roundelay, And fluttered a rag from a signal-crag For a wretched castaway. With a sea-gull resting on my breast, I launched on a madder flight: And I lashed the waves to a wild unrest, And howled with a fierce delight Till the daylight slept; and I wailed and wept Like a fretful babe all night. For I heard the boom of a gun strike doom; And the gleam of a blood-red star Glared at me through the mirk and gloom From the lighthouse tower afar; And I held my breath at the shriek of death That came from the harbor bar. For I am the Wind, and I rule mankind, And I hold a sovereign reign Over the lands, as God designed, And the waters they contain: Lo! the bound of the wide world round Falleth in my domain! I journeyed on, when the night was gone, O'er a coast of oak and pine; And I followed a path that a stream had drawn Through a land of vale and vine, And here and there was a village fair In a nest of shade and shine. I passed o'er lakes where the sunshine shakes And shivers his golden lance On the glittering shield of the wave that breaks Where the fish-boats dip and dance, And the trader sails where the mist unveils The glory of old romance. I joyed to stand where the jeweled hand Of the maiden-morning lies On the tawny brow of the mountain-land. Where the eagle shrieks and cries, And holds his throne to himself alone From the light of human eyes. Adown deep glades where the forest shades Are dim as the dusk of day-- Where only the foot of the wild beast wades, Or the Indian dares to stray, As the blacksnakes glide through the reeds and hide In the swamp-depths grim and gray. And I turned and fled from the place of dread To the far-off haunts of men. "In the city's heart is rest," I said,-- But I found it not, and when I saw but care and vice reign there I was filled with wrath again: And I blew a spark in the midnight dark Till it flashed to an angry flame And scarred the sky with a lurid mark As red as the blush of shame: And a hint of hell was the dying yell That up from the ruins came.