"The Voice of the Waves" (1876)
Descriptive Ballad.
by John Hill Hewitt, 1801-1890

1.
Rolling, still rolling with lily white crests,
And flashing in sunlight, the billows leap on;
Screaming, the seabirds, fly up from their nests,
And bathe their light wings in the rays of the sun.
Sparkling like diamonds, the spray melts in air,
And deep sounding murmurs are heard ev'rywhere.

'Tis the song of the waves as they leap to the shore,
And mournfully sing evermore, evermore,
Everymore!

2.
Leaping, still leaping to-ward the blue sky,
Embracing and dying to each other's arms;
Dancing and kissing the winds that pass by,
Assailing the lone rock in grim shrouded forms.
Still the wild chorus is heard far away,
The groan of the breakers, the kiss of the spray.

'Tis the song of the waves as they leap to the shore,
And mournfully sing evermore, evermore.
Everymore!

3.
Sighing, still sighing, the wind dies away,
And scarcely a breath fans the face of the deep;
Laughing around the lone rock, the waves play,
Old ocean then, wearied, goes gently to sleep.

Whispering lovingly, up the bright sound,
The billows, like sisters, creep slow hand in hand;
Still murmuring soft, as they kiss the white shore,
The song of the sea evermore, evermore.
Evermore!