The breaking waves dashed high On a stern and rock-bound coast, And the woods against a stormy sky Their giant branches tossed.

I had a hat. It was not all a hat,- Part of the brim was gone: Yet still I wore it on.

And the heavy night hung dark, The hills and waters o'er, When a band of exiles moored their bark On the wild New England shore.

Come to the sunset tree! The day is past and gone; The woodman's axe lies free, And the reaper's work is done.

I wish I could see how the ocean is lashing The foam of its billows to whirlwinds of spray; I wish I could see how its proud waves are dashing, And hear the wi…

Down beyond the haven the tide comes with a shout.

I heard through the night The rush and the clamour; The pulse of the fight Like blows of Thor's hammer; The pattering flight Of the leaves, and the anguished M…