Oceanus

Sometimes I stand upon the shores

where troubles vault their effluence pour

and troubled waters sigh and shrieck

of secrets that they dare not speak.

From nameless valleys far bellow,

and hills and plains no man may know,

the mystic swells and sullen surges

hint like accursed thaumaturges

a thousand horrors, big with awe,

that long-forgotten ages saw.

O salt, salt winds that bleakly sweep

across the barring heaving deep;

O wild wan waves, that call to mind

the chaos Earth hath left behind:

of you I ask one thing alone;

leave, leave your ancient lore unknown.