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Henry Wadsworth Longfellow - Milton
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    I pace the sounding sea-beach and behold 
     How the voluminous billows roll and run, 
     Upheaving and subsiding, while the sun 
     Shines through their sheeted emerald far unrolled, 
   And the ninth wave, slow gathering fold by fold 
     All its loose-flowing garments into one, 
     Plunges upon the shore, and floods the dun 
     Pale reach of sands, and changes them to gold. 
   So in majestic cadence rise and fall 
    The mighty undulations of thy song, 
    O sightless bard, England`s Mæonides! 
  And ever and anon, high over all 
    Uplifted, a ninth wave superb and strong, 
    Floods all the soul with its melodious seas.
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