View allAll Photos Tagged Pathless
I had a dream, which was not all a dream.
The bright sun was extinguish'd, and the stars
Did wander darkling in the eternal space,
Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth
Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air
Lord Byron-Darkness.
-------------------------------------------
This was made to celebrate being active online as a moccist for 15 years.
All in all I've worked on and off on this for over 4 years, with countless sketches and several attempts failing before making this. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed making it.
This was an interview with Kishnamurti that Michael Toms he called Truth Is A Pathless Land from a his show New Dimensions Radio. I have a cassette recording of this that I copied off the air when I was a music programmer on a community radio station KRCL in SLC, Utah back in the 80's. Just to give this the credit that it's do, please. Thanks.
Relic
Each year, I spend time scouting for untouched areas in the Alps and Pre-Alps, and I’m always amazed by the discovery of timeless, forgotten places—hidden sanctuaries enshrouded in primeval nature. These landscapes awaken a sense of the sublime, so deeply familiar to the painters of the Romantic era.
This image marks the beginning of a new series dedicated to forest photography.
"Relic" is the title I chose for this image — a cave hidden deep within the forest, weathered by time and shrouded in mystery. There's a sense that it was once something sacred, long forgotten, a remnant of a world lost to memory. The light barely touches its stone walls, and yet, it speaks in silence. It felt right to treat it not just as a location, but as a character — a witness of ages, a guardian of secrets.
"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."
— Lord Byron
Laguna Alerces
Parque Tagua Tagua
Cochamó, Patagonia
X Región de los lagos
Chile
"There is pleasure in the pathless woods, there is rapture in 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"
Lord Byron
There is pleasure in the pathless woods, there is rapture in 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.
Lord Byron
There is 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.
-Lord Byron
I have just returned from a hiking trip to the Canaries and chose La Sombrero as my warm up. This is the summit view which takes in the cone of Mount Teide on the left. It is hard to believe from this angle that at over 12,000 feet Teide towers over other local hills. The range to the centre and right is one that I have hiked previously but for some reason I had left La Sombrere alone for another day. That other day came a week last Monday when after dropping Mark off at the beach I took a rough, spiky and pathless treck to the summit. As can be seen the view was outstanding, but alas the terrain was unstable and nasty.
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.
― George Gordon Byron
from Childe Harold, Canto iv, Verse 178
The West Highland Way (Scottish Gaelic: Slighe na Gàidhealtachd an Iar) is a linear long distance footpath in Scotland, with the official status of Long Distance Route. It is 154.5 km long, running from Milngavie north of Glasgow to Fort William in the Scottish Highlands, with an element of hill walking in the route. It is managed by the West Highland Way Management Group (WHWMG) consisting of West Dunbartonshire Council, Stirling Council, Argyll & Bute Council, Highland Council and Loch Lomond and The Trossachs National Park Authority. About 80,000 people use the path every year, of whom over 15,000 walk the entire route.
The trail was approved for development in 1974 and was completed and opened on 6 October 1980 by Lord Mansfield so becoming the first officially designated long distance footpath in Scotland. In June 2010, the West Highland Way was co-designated as part of the International Appalachian Trail.
The path uses many ancient roads, including drovers' roads, military roads and old coaching roads, and is traditionally walked from south to north. As well as increasing the sense of adventure, taking the route in this direction keeps the sun from one's eyes.
The route is commonly walked in seven to eight days, although many fitter and more experienced walkers do it in five or six. The route can be covered in considerably less time than this, but a less hurried progress is the choice of the majority of walkers, allowing for appreciation of the countryside along the Way. Enjoyment of the natural surroundings of the walk is the primary motivating factor for many people following the route.
(Wikipedia)
-----
In April, I solo-hiked on and around the northern part of the famous West Highland Way, starting in Ardlui and finishing in Fort William five days later after a set of detours from the main trail.
The itinerary was as follows: Ardlui -> pass below Ben Lui -> Inveroran -> Kingshouse -> Luibelt ruin -> Fort William.
During the third day, I enjoyed a beautiful though a little bit cold morning in Inveroran, crossed Rannoch Moor, climbed Meall a' Bhùiridh via its pathless southern slopes, and finished my journey in a beautiful river setting in Kingshouse.
CANTO I
ONE night, when half my life behind me lay,
I wandered from the straight lost path afar.
Through the great dark was no releasing way;
Above that dark was no relieving star.
If yet that terrored night I think or say,
As death's cold hands its fears resuming are.
Gladly the dreads I felt, too dire to tell,
The hopeless, pathless, lightless hours forgot,
I turn my tale to that which next befell,
When the dawn opened, and the night was not.
The hollowed blackness of that waste, God wot,
Shrank, thinned, and ceased.
from Inferno, Dante Alighieri
The north temperate rain forests of the north Pacific coast are lush, dark and very biodiverse. They are pretty much inaccessible due to the dense growth, but in the Pacific Rim National Park boardwalks have been built to provide access to this unique ecosystem. This imaged was taken on Rainforest Trail B, south of Tofino, British Columbia. This ecosystem is used in the movie industry for movies involving man versus the untamed wilderness, and it would certainly be scary to be lost in these large pathless tracts of forest that are home to bears, wolves and wildcats. (best seen at the larger size)
16/04/16 www.allenfotowild.com
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.
George Gordon Byron
Texture www.flickr.com/photos/lenabem-anna/6921706290/in/set-7215...
© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Use without permission is illegal.
Spring from my archives...6 photos in the comment box
"When the world ends
We’ll be burnin’ one
When the world ends
We’ll be sweet makin’ love
Oh you know when the world ends
I'm gonna take you aside and say
Let's watch it fade away, fade away
When the worlds done, ours just begun
Its done, ours just begin
We’re gon' dive into the emptiness
We'll be swimmin
I’m gon' walk you through the pathless roads
I’m gon' take you to the top of the mountain that’s no longer there
I’m gonna take you to bed and love you, I swear
Like the end is near..."
When the World Ends
-Dave Matthews Band
Just below the summit we chose on the pathless ridge a wrong passage. Soon we had to scramble up by very steep terrain, and a bit later even to climb over a rocky barrier. It was an unpleasant and exposed part of the ascent, not really appropriate for two almost 70-year seniors.
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.
Lord Byron,
There is a pleasure in the pathless wood,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society, where none intrudes,
By the the deep Sea, and music in it's roar,
I love not Man the less, but Nature more.
- Lord Byron
Happy 1st Anniversary to Imagoism Thursday's !!!
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 the more.
Vlog here - youtu.be/yW8IgNuMc4A
Killiecrankie to Vrackie
One of my go to mountains is Ben Vrackie and I’ve explored lots of variations from the Moulin side, be it in daylight hours or in the hours of darkness, however I am ashamed to say I have never explored the hill from Killiecrankie. In fact I don’t think I have ever visited Killiecrankie despite driving past it numerous times every month!! What swung it this time was the magnificent display the autumn trees were putting on. On another trip north with work, I was in awe of the colours as I swung onto the dual carriage way, the woodland on the hillside wouldn’t have looked out of place in New Hampshire!
Waking on a drab Sunday morning I switched on the TV to catch the weather and it was suggesting the drabness I was seeing out of the window was soon to change to blue skies and sunshine! Feeling the need to feed the rat, I set about doing some chores in the morning with the plan to head off to Killiecrankie around lunchtime. This I did, and my timing was good with the clouds starting to part as I past Pitlochry and my mountain before taking the right hand turnoff for Killiecrankie! Parking was limited at the visitor centre as many others had obviously had the same idea, although not many were headed where I was going!! The hill walk starts opposite the visitor centre and is just as well sign posted as it is from the Moulin side. Off I strode and the views soon opened out in all directions – the wonderful autumn colours around Killiecrankie were superb and the mountain view of Beinn a Ghlo started to appear as I gained height. I good path takes you over some fields and there are a few styles and dykes to cross on the way up. I reached a junction in the path and as opposed to heading over towards the lochan I took a left as I wanted to head up the subsidiary top of Meall an Daimh. Now if you don’t like heather bashing – then this route is not for you!! The path is ok for about 500m but you need to strike off up hill and at this point it’s a wade through the heather until reaching the top!
One of the main attractions about this route is the solitude that is encountered and I had only met a few other walkers on the path up from Killiecrankie. As I headed for Meall an Daimh, I wasn’t expecting to see another soul, but nearing the summit I was surprised to see a couple of walkers making their way down towards me. As they approached I immediately recognised them as regular contributors to the walkhighlands forum, it was Weaselmaster and Sick kid – great to meet you both!! After a nice chat we set off on our ways , hope you got home ok folks.
On reaching the top of Meall an Daimh the heather shortened and the grass took over. The views were amazing, Beinn a Ghlo and the other Perthshire hills looked absolutely brilliant with the lovely blue skies over head. It was a superb autumnal day and after taking an hour or so to enjoy the solitude on the minor summit I soon set about striding to the summit of Ben Vrackie, which wasn’t so quiet! Understandably so, many people had taken the opportunity to hike in this glorious autumn weather! A little drink and bite to eat on Vrackies summit and I started to descend over pathless ground towards Killiecrankie again. The sun the starting to lower and the rays of light hitting the Perthshire Landscapes was grand. I was soon on the path and heading back to Killiecrankie. I still had about an hour of light left and decided to head down to explore the soldiers leap. It was amazing, the colours in the woodland were perfect and the crowds had dispersed by this time. There is a real feeling of history here and after reading a little about the history ,it was nice to visit a small part of were these battles had occurred. I’ve decided I will be coming back next Autumn to spend more time in the lowlands to see where Bonnie Dundee
Once again, forests and waterfalls take center stage in my spring photographic explorations. This time, I had the opportunity to capture a well-known waterfall in France from a unique perspective. Thanks to the extreme focal length of my fisheye lens, I was able to include surrounding elements that enhance the sense of depth and immersion—bringing the viewer closer to the heart of this serene, moss-covered sanctuary.
“There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore…”
— Lord Byron
~George Gordon, Lord Byron, Childe Harold's Pilgrimage
Lots of squirrels in the botanical garden - all greys unfortunately! They were busy collecting and eating nuts. Just brightened and added an overlay on this one, - original below sooc
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.
~ Lord Byron
Theme: Power In Words
Year Thirteen Of My 365 Project
"I had a dream, which was not all a dream. The bright sun was extinguish'd, and the stars Did wander darkling in the eternal space, Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth
Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air;"
~Lord Byron
View On Black for more foreground detail.
Beyond the pathless waste of brine,
In a young land of palm and pine!
There, by the tropic heats, the soul
Is touched as if with living coal,
And glows with such a fire as none
Can feel beneath a Northern sun,
From Katie by Henry Timrod (1828 - 1867)
Best Viewed Large On Black - Tranquil Otaki Beach, New Zealand [?]
Looking back to Biod an Fhithich, the final summit of A' Mhuing, the ridge that led me from Shiel Bridge to my intended camp spot on Meallan Odhar. The ascent started pathless and pretty tough, and turned into a wonderful albeit strenuous ridge walk over countless false summits. Got off the bus in Shiel Bride around 18:30, leaving just enough time to walk all the way up and find a good pitch before it got too dark.
A favourite pleasure hath it been with me,
From time of earliest youth, to walk alone
Along the public way, when, for the night
Deserted, in its silence it assumes
A character of deeper quietness
Than pathless solitudes...
Wordsworth
from The Prelude
De Hoge Veluwe
Copyright - All images are copyright © protected. All Rights Reserved. Copying, altering, displaying or redistribution of any of these images without written permission from the artist is strictly prohibited
Birches
By Robert Frost
When I see birches bend to left and right
Across the lines of straighter darker trees,
I like to think some boy's been swinging them.
But swinging doesn't bend them down to stay
As ice-storms do. Often you must have seen them
Loaded with ice a sunny winter morning
After a rain. They click upon themselves
As the breeze rises, and turn many-colored
As the stir cracks and crazes their enamel.
Soon the sun's warmth makes them shed crystal shells
Shattering and avalanching on the snow-crust—
Such heaps of broken glass to sweep away
You'd think the inner dome of heaven had fallen.
They are dragged to the withered bracken by the load,
And they seem not to break; though once they are bowed
So low for long, they never right themselves:
You may see their trunks arching in the woods
Years afterwards, trailing their leaves on the ground
Like girls on hands and knees that throw their hair
Before them over their heads to dry in the sun.
But I was going to say when Truth broke in
With all her matter-of-fact about the ice-storm
I should prefer to have some boy bend them
As he went out and in to fetch the cows—
Some boy too far from town to learn baseball,
Whose only play was what he found himself,
Summer or winter, and could play alone.
One by one he subdued his father's trees
By riding them down over and over again
Until he took the stiffness out of them,
And not one but hung limp, not one was left
For him to conquer. He learned all there was
To learn about not launching out too soon
And so not carrying the tree away
Clear to the ground. He always kept his poise
To the top branches, climbing carefully
With the same pains you use to fill a cup
Up to the brim, and even above the brim.
Then he flung outward, feet first, with a swish,
Kicking his way down through the air to the ground.
So was I once myself a swinger of birches.
And so I dream of going back to be.
It's when I'm weary of considerations,
And life is too much like a pathless wood
Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs
Broken across it, and one eye is weeping
From a twig's having lashed across it open.
I'd like to get away from earth awhile
And then come back to it and begin over.
May no fate willfully misunderstand me
And half grant what I wish and snatch me away
Not to return. Earth's the right place for love:
I don't know where it's likely to go better.
I'd like to go by climbing a birch tree,
And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk
Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more,
But dipped its top and set me down again.
That would be good both going and coming back.
One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.
"There is pleasure in the pathless woods.
There is rapture on the lonely shore.
There is society where none intrudes.
By the deep sea and the music in its roar.
I love not man the less, but Nature more."
Lord Byron.
In September 2017, we spent 11 days of hiking and packrafting in the unspoiled wilderness of southern Greenland between the magnificent Tasermiut fjord and the remote settlement of Aappilattoq, searching for beautiful landscapes, moods of solitude, and enjoying a true deep north adventure.
Certainly, we were far from being the first to cross these lands, however we hadn't met anyone during our 10-days hike across the pathless terrain; we just saw a few footsteps of previous adventurers in the sand.
No paths, no huts, no GSM signal, no means of civilization; this is a harsh northern landscape that requires enough stamina, experience, mental strength and patience to be crossed over. For those who don't retreat, however, the experience is very rewarding: a unique mix of isolation, exploration and adventure.
-----
During the 10th day in the area, we continued exploring the Aappilattoq settlement, climbing to a hill above it for stunning views all around.
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.
Lord Byron
My friends, I wish I could visit your streams more often. Have a wonderful week. May love and joy be with you all.
In September 2017, we spent 11 days of hiking and packrafting in the unspoiled wilderness of southern Greenland between the magnificent Tasermiut fjord and the remote settlement of Aappilattoq, searching for beautiful landscapes, moods of solitude, and enjoying a true deep north adventure.
Certainly, we were far from being the first to cross these lands, however we hadn't met anyone during our 10-days hike across the pathless terrain; we just saw a few footsteps of previous adventurers in the sand.
No paths, no huts, no GSM signal, no means of civilization; this is a harsh northern landscape that requires enough stamina, experience, mental strength and patience to be crossed over. For those who don't retreat, however, the experience is very rewarding: a unique mix of isolation, exploration and adventure.
-----
During the 4th day in the area, we left Klosterdalen valley towards the remote and barren valley of Tupaassat.
“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” ― Lord Byron
Location : Sepa Island, Indonesia
Facebook / Instagram : @wndrenvy
So was I once myself a swinger of birches.
And so I dream of going back to be.
It's when I'm weary of considerations,
And life is too much like a pathless wood
Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs
Broken across it, and one eye is weeping
From a twig's having lashed across it open.
I'd like to get away from earth awhile
And then come back to it and begin over.
-- Robert Frost
In September 2017, we spent 11 days of hiking and packrafting in the unspoiled wilderness of southern Greenland between the magnificent Tasermiut fjord and the remote settlement of Aappilattoq, searching for beautiful landscapes, moods of solitude, and enjoying a true deep north adventure.
Certainly, we were far from being the first to cross these lands, however we hadn't met anyone during our 10-days hike across the pathless terrain; we just saw a few footsteps of previous adventurers in the sand.
No paths, no huts, no GSM signal, no means of civilization; this is a harsh northern landscape that requires enough stamina, experience, mental strength and patience to be crossed over. For those who don't retreat, however, the experience is very rewarding: a unique mix of isolation, exploration and adventure.
-----
During the 10th day in the area, we continued exploring the Aappilattoq settlement, climbing to a hill above it for stunning views all around.
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.
Lord Byron
The West Highland Way (Scottish Gaelic: Slighe na Gàidhealtachd an Iar) is a linear long distance footpath in Scotland, with the official status of Long Distance Route. It is 154.5 km long, running from Milngavie north of Glasgow to Fort William in the Scottish Highlands, with an element of hill walking in the route. It is managed by the West Highland Way Management Group (WHWMG) consisting of West Dunbartonshire Council, Stirling Council, Argyll & Bute Council, Highland Council and Loch Lomond and The Trossachs National Park Authority. About 80,000 people use the path every year, of whom over 15,000 walk the entire route.
The trail was approved for development in 1974 and was completed and opened on 6 October 1980 by Lord Mansfield so becoming the first officially designated long distance footpath in Scotland. In June 2010, the West Highland Way was co-designated as part of the International Appalachian Trail.
The path uses many ancient roads, including drovers' roads, military roads and old coaching roads, and is traditionally walked from south to north. As well as increasing the sense of adventure, taking the route in this direction keeps the sun from one's eyes.
The route is commonly walked in seven to eight days, although many fitter and more experienced walkers do it in five or six. The route can be covered in considerably less time than this, but a less hurried progress is the choice of the majority of walkers, allowing for appreciation of the countryside along the Way. Enjoyment of the natural surroundings of the walk is the primary motivating factor for many people following the route.
(Wikipedia)
-----
In April, I solo-hiked on and around the northern part of the famous West Highland Way, starting in Ardlui and finishing in Fort William five days later after a set of detours from the main trail.
The itinerary was as follows: Ardlui -> pass below Ben Lui -> Inveroran -> Kingshouse -> Luibelt ruin -> Fort William.
During the third day, I enjoyed a beautiful though a little bit cold morning in Inveroran, crossed Rannoch Moor, climbed Meall a' Bhùiridh via its pathless southern slopes, and finished my journey in a beautiful river setting in Kingshouse.
Finally getting down to uploading some photos from my Scotland trip back in August/September...
Took the bus along Loch Lomond and got dropped off at the Sloy Power Station. From there I walked up Ben Vane along the nice path. After this short stop on the summit, I headed onwards and descended the western slopes over pathless terrain into the valley between Ben Vane and Beinn Ìme. From there I went to the foot of Beinn Ìme's NE ridge and ascended that ridge over mixed terrain from steep grass slopes to moderate scrambling bits. A wonderful and lonesome ascent onto this pretty busy hill.
I do like not knowing where I'm going, wandering in strange woods, whistling and following bread crumbs. There is pleasure in the pathless woods, the woods are lovely, dark and deep. Now Autumn's fire burns slowly along the woods and day by day the dead leaves fall and melt
"Every part of this soil is sacred in the estimation of my people. Every hillside, every valley, every plain and grove, has been hallowed by some sad or happy event in days long vanished. Even the rocks, which seem to be dumb and dead as the swelter in the sun along the silent shore, thrill with memories of stirring events connected with the lives of my people, and the very dust upon which you now stand responds more lovingly to their footsteps than yours, because it is rich with the blood of our ancestors, and our bare feet are conscious of the sympathetic touch. Our departed braves, fond mothers, glad, happy hearted maidens, and even the little children who lived here and rejoiced here for a brief season, will love these somber solitudes and at eventide they greet shadowy returning spirits. And when the last Red Man shall have perished, and the memory of my tribe shall have become a myth among the White Men, these shores will swarm with the invisible dead of my tribe, and when your children's children think themselves alone in the field, the store, the shop, upon the highway, or in the silence of the pathless woods, they will not be alone. In all the earth there is no place dedicated to solitude. At night when the streets of your cities and villages are silent and you think them deserted, they will throng with the returning hosts that once filled them and still love this beautiful land."
~Chief Seattle~
(leader of the Suquamish and Duwamish Native American tribes)
HAPPY BIRTHDAY BARBARA!!!!!!!
www.flickr.com/photos/31343451@N00/
and to all my friends................a happy weekend!
*******************************************************
The Dark, Blue Sea
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.-
Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean-roll!
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.
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.
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.
Thy shores are empires, changed in all save thee-
Assyria, Greece, Rome, Carthage, what are they?
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.
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! 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.
[ Byron]