What hid'st thou in thy treasure caves and cells,
Thou ever sounding and mysterious main!
Pale glist'ning pearls and rainbow coloured shells,
Bright things which gleam unrecked of, and in vain.
Keep, keep thy riches, melancholy sea,
We ask not, we ask not such from thee.
But more, the billows and the depths have more,
High hearts and brave are gathered to thy breast;
They hear not how the booming waters roar;
The battle thunders wil not break their rest.
Keep thy red gold and gems, thou stormy grave;
Give back, give back the true and brave.
Dark roll thy tides o'er manhood's noble head,
O'er youth's bright locks and beauty's flow'ry crown.
Yet must thou hear a voice: restore the dead!
Earth shall reclaim her precious things from thee!
Restore, retore the dead, thou sea!