Paraphrase of Byron’s

Paraphrase of Byron’s.
95. 6

Biremes have traversed you, En-
chanted galleys,
Eteam-driven buiks, of all sea-far-
Ing kind.
Countless that climb your hills and
rugged valleys.
Impress, O sea, who ever leaves be-
hind.
Night on your bosom sets the stars
a-quiver:
Back to the morn the morning’s smile
you throw;
You draw the heart and secret of the
river,
Yet your dread secret, O sea, who
shall know?

Earths’s daisy-printed coverchief en-
folding.
Tenderly marks where hushed her
children Ile;
But the dear lives yon cool vast depths
are holding
Who reads. O sea, beneath your mir-
rared sky?
Margaret Merington