It keeps eternal whisperings around <br />Desolate shores, and with its mighty swell <br />Gluts twice ten thousand caverns, till the spell <br />Of Hecate leaves them their old shadowy sound. <br />Often 'tis in such gentle temper found <br />That scarcely will the very smallest shell <br />Be mov'd for days from whence it sometime fell, <br />When last the winds of heaven were unbound. <br />Oh ye! who have your eye-balls vex'd and tir'd, <br />Feast them upon the wideness of the Sea; <br />Oh ye! whose ears are dinn'd with uproar rude, <br />Or fed too much with cloying melody,-- <br />Sit ye near some old cavern's mouth, and brood <br />Until ye start, as if the sea-nymphs quir'd!<br /><br />John Keats<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-on-the-sea/
