“AND THERE WAS NO MORE SEA.”
By T. R. Williamson
No more the riot of the waves shall jar
The cliffs in thund’rous din thruout the age;
No more the ocean’s sheen shall redden far
Round battling ships in war’s tumultuous rage. But doves of peace, white, cooing to and fro,
Shall wing with messages from land to land,
While on the hurrying breeze shall kindness go,
And clasps of friendship reach from hand to hand. No more the reptiles of the marsh and fen
Shall wait for victims by the reedy shore,
Nor sharks in sullen hunger watch for men
Round the brave ships that sail the surges o’er. But every ripple of the pool or bay
Shall tinge with health the soft winds whistling by,
And joy shall ride the wavelets day by day
Under eternal summer’s azure sky. No more shall wrecks death-laden float at will
O’er tropic seas or where the freezing gale
Congeals the waves in ice fields, broad and still,
Castled with crystal bergs sea-green and pale. But from the lakelet’s sedgy brim shall sound
The piping music of the wading birds,
While swimming thousands float at ease around
And murmur love-notes sweet as happy words. The time of wrath shall be forever past;
Then no more need of ocean’s storm-wrecked plain,
That severs land from land with tempests vast,
And makes wild weapons of the wind and rain. There shall be plashy ponds, and rivers fine,
And lakes of beauty ’neath the silver moon,
And Neptune’s breakers nevermore shall join
In grim destructiveness and deafening tone. There shall be fields and hills and glorious heights
All populated o’er with busy throngs;
Labor thru rapturous days and holy nights
Shall join with kings in praiseful, godly songs. Oakland, Cal. T. R. WILLIAMSON.