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.

IMGP0399_IMGP0392IMGP0386IMGP0389IMGP0351IMGP0356IMGP0374IMGP0357 IMGP0396IMGP0422IMGP0429IMGP0433IMGP0446IMGP0451IMGP0455IMGP0414There 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.

Poem excerpts from The dark, blue sea by Byron.

Apologies to Matthew Arnold.

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