Roll on thou deep and dark blue ocean roll. Thought for the Day 2019-01-12
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The Ocean. Lord Byron (1788
When we pollute the ocean we are ignoring and abusing that compassion in a manner unworthy of us. Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean - roll! Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form Glasses itself in tempests; in all time Calm or convulsed-in breeze, or gale, or storm, Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime Dark-heaving; boundless, endless and sublime- The image of eternity-the throne Of the invisible; even from out thy slime The monsters of the deep are made; each zone Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone. And I have loved thee, Ocean! It's a poem about Nature, the love the writer feels for the sea - loving his fellow man no less but feels in his right place near the sea. Through pathless realms of Space Roll on! This website explores how it does so. The armaments which thunderstrike the walls Of rock-built cities, bidding nations quake, And monarchs tremble in their capitals. . When they walk into the stadium, they have the impressive presence of ten thousand fleets.
Regardless of what we say, it will do what it does. The image of a rolling tide brings to mind a Byron poem that captures the inexorable nature of the Alabama team: Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean—roll! It rolls on The final parenthetical expression makes the poem for me. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes. Thy shores are empires, changed in all save thee- Assyria, Greece, Rome, Carthage, what are they? Sports Saturday The mighty University of Alabama football team will be contending for its third national title in four year on January 7 and once again, wherever you look, fans of the Crimson Tide are confidently chanting their mantra, Roll Tide. The armaments which thunderstrike the walls Of rock-built cities, bidding nations quake, And monarchs tremble in their capitals, The oak leviathans, whose huge ribs make Their clay creator the vain title take Of lord of thee, and arbiter of war, These are thy toys, and, as the snowy flake, They melt into thy yeast of waves, which mar Alike the Armadas pride or spoils of Trafalgar. Thy shores are empires, changed in all save thee - Assyria, Greece, Rome, Carthage, what are they? And I have loved thee, Ocean! Thy waters washed them power while they were free, And many a tyrant since; their shores obey The stranger, slave, or savage; their decay Has dried up realms to deserts: not so thou, Unchangeable save to thy wild waves play; Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow; Such as creations dawn beheld, thou rollest now.
Literature is meant to mix it up with life. Roll on, thou ball, roll on! The armaments which thunderstrike the walls Of rock-built cities, bidding nations quake, And monarchs tremble in their capitals, The oak leviathans, whose huge ribs make Their clay creator the vain title take Of lord of thee, and arbiter of war; These are thy toys, and, as the snowy flake, They melt into thy yeast of waves, which mar Alike the armada's pride, or spoils of Trafalgar. And my joy Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be Borne, like thy bubbles, onward: from a boy I wanton'd with thy breakers-they to me Were a delight; and if the freshening sea Made them a terror-'twas a pleasing fear, For I was as it were a child of thee, And trusted to thy billows far and near, And laid my hand upon thy mane - as I do here. Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain; Man marks the earth with ruin — his control Stops with the shore; — upon the watery plain The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain A shadow of man's ravage, save his own, When, for a moment, like a drop of rain, He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan, Without a grave, unknell'd, uncoffin'd, and unknown. Thy shores are empires, changed in all save thee: Assyria, Greece, Rome, Carthage, what are they? Pollution, depletion of the ozone layer, global warming — threats like these are changing the ocean. I would be honored to hear your thoughts and questions about literature.
What though I swallow countless pills? Thy waters washed them power while they were free, And many a tyrant since: their shores obey The stranger, slave or savage; their decay Has dried up realms to deserts:-not so thou, Unchangeable, save to thy wild waves' play- Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow- Such as creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now. There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore, There is society where none intrudes, By the deep sea, and music in its roar: I love not man the less, but nature more, From these our interviews, in which I steal From all I may be, or have been before, To mingle with the universe, and feel What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal. Stories and poems help us work through the challenges we face, from everyday irritations to loneliness, heartache, and death. When we look at the sea, we should remember the infinite tenderness and compassion of God. And I have loved thee, Ocean! And I have loved thee, ocean! We may puff ourselves up following a victory, but our team is unaware of our existence. Eknath Easwaran's Commentary Alas, Lord Byron, no more! Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain; Man marks the earth with ruin-his control Stops with the shore;-upon the watery plain The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain A shadow of man's ravage, save his own, When for a moment, like a drop of rain, He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan, Without a grave, unknell'd, uncoffin'd, and unknown. Gilbert is addressing the Earth: To the Terrestial Globe Roll on, thou ball, roll on! What though I cannot meet my bills? For an explanation: please read the other comments underneath the poem.
Yes, there are mighty football teams, especially in the Southeast Conference, that seem capable of marking the earth with ruin. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes. As a University of Tennessee fan, I find this most distressing. His steps are not upon thy paths-thy fields Are not a spoil for him-thou dost arise And shake him from thee; the vile strength he wields For earth's destruction thou dost all despise, Spurning him from thy bosom to the skies, And send'st him, shivering in thy playful spray, And howling, to his gods, where haply lies His petty hope in some near port or bay, And dashest him again to earth: there let him lay. Through seas of inky air Roll on! Literature is as vital to our lives as food and shelter. Thou glorious mirror, where the Almightys form Glasses itself in tempests; in all time, Calm or convulsed; in breeze or gale or storm, Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime Dark-heaving, boundless, endless, and sublime, The image of Eternity, the throne Of the Invisible; even from out thy slime The monsters of the deep are made; each zone Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone. His steps are not upon thy paths; thy fields Are not a spoil for him; thou dost arise And shake him from thee; the vile strength he wields For earths destruction thou dost all despise, Spurning him from thy bosom to the skies, And sendst him, shivering in thy playful spray, And howling, to his gods, where haply lies His petty hope in some near port or bay, And dashest him again to earth: there let him lay.
The sea supports us, balances our climate, provides a home for whales and seals and dolphins. Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain; Man marks the earth with ruin; his control Stops with the shore; upon the watery plain The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain A shadow of mans ravage, save his own, When, for a moment, like a drop of rain, He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan, Without a grave, unknelled, uncoffined, and unknown. . . .
