The Pacific hid in the mist and cloud, 

While the waves from rock to rock, 

Pounded and overflew with a brutal passion. 

The dark, barren shorelines bore its recession, 

While from the cliff, the noon lingered on, 

And endless winds rushed along. 

The man-made city, tall above the sea, 

Dreary at the end of day, 

The lighted cross shone from the bay. 

Dreary and grey may I see, 

Endless and glorious did I feel—

Man watches the sea, the immortal force, 

And watches himself to learn death.