4 Ocean Poems

Be inspired by these ocean poems. The Poet's description of the sounds of the waves gently going back and forth can make you feel like you are at the ocean. There is a calmness found when walking beside the ocean, sitting watching the tides come and go.

And then there are the storms, where the seas rage and the waves crash. Many use the ocean as an analogy to life, calm times, and stormy times. During the calm times, we experience happiness and contentment. But during stormy times, we feel anxiety and fear. And, just like life, the storm passes and the ocean is again calm and peaceful. The storms never last forever!


Short Poems   /   Nature Poems   /   Ocean Poems

  1. With The Tide
    Poet: Amelia E. Barr


    Wave by wave o'er the sandy bar,
    Up to the coast lights, glimmering wan,
    Out of the darkness deep and far,
    Slowly the tide came creeping on.
    Through the clamor of billowy strife
    Another voice went wailing thin;
    The first faint cry of a new-born life
    Broke on the night and the tide was in.

    Wave by wave o'er the sandy bar,
    Back again from the sleeping town,
    Back to the darkness deep and far,
    Slowly the tide went dropping down.
    Silence lay on the chamber of death;
    Silence lay on the land about;
    The last low flutter of weary breath
    Fell on the night and the tide was out.



  2. Ocean Of Life
    Poet: Henry Wadsworth Longfellow


    Ships that pass in the night, and speak
    each other in passing.
    Only a signal shown and a distant voice
    in the darkness;
    So on the ocean of life we pass and speak
    one another,
    Only a look and a voice, then darkness
    again and a silence.



  3. Flotsam And Jetsam
    Poet: Unknown


    The sea crashed over the grim gray rocks,
    It thundered beneath the height,
    It swept by reef and sandy dune,
    It glittered beneath the harvest moon
    That bathed it in yellow light.

    Shell and seaweed and sparkling stone
    It flung on the golden sand.
    Strange relics torn from its deepest caves
    Sad trophies of wild victorious waves
    It scattered upon the strand.

    Spars that had looked so strong and true
    When the gallant ship was launched,
    Shattered and broken, flung to the shore,
    While the tide in its deep, triumphant roar,
    Rang the dirge for old wounds long stanched.

    Pretty trifles that love had brought
    From many a foreign clime,
    Snatched by the storm from the clinging clasp
    Of hands that the lonely will never grasp,
    While the world yet counteth time.

    Back, back to its depths went the ebbing tide,
    Leaving its stores to rest
    Unsought and unseen in the silent bay,
    To be gathered again, ere close of day,
    To the ocean's mighty breast.

    Kinder than man art thou, O sea;
    Frankly we give our best,
    Truth, and hope, and love, and faith,
    Devotion that challenges time and death,
    Its sterling worth to test.

    We fling them down at our darling's feet,
    Indifference leaves them there;
    The careless footstep turns aside,
    Weariness, changefulness, scorn, or pride,
    Brings little of thought or care.

    No tide of human feeling turns;
    Once ebbed, love never flows;
    The pitiful wreckage of time and strife,
    The flotsam and jetsam of human life,
    No saving reflux knows.



  4. By The Sea
    Poet: Unknown


    Slowly, steadily, under the moon,
    Swings the tide in its old-time way;
    Never too late and never too soon,
    And the evening and morning make up the day.

    Slowly, steadily, over the sands,
    And over the rocks they fall and flow;
    And this wave has touched a dead man's hands,
    And that one has seen a face we know.

    They have borne the good ship on her way,
    Or buried her deep from love and light;
    And yet, as they sink at our feet to-day,
    Ah, who shall interpret their message aright?

    For their separate voices of grief and cheer
    Are blended at last in one solemn tone;
    And only this song of the waves I hear,
    "Forever and ever His will be done!"

    Slowly, steadily, to and fro,
    Swings our life in its weary way;
    Now at its ebb and now at its flow,
    And the evening and morning make up the day.

    Sorrow and happiness, peace and strife,
    Fear and rejoicing, its moments know;
    How from the discords of such a life
    Can the clear music of heaven flow

    Yet to the ear of God it swells,
    And to the blessed round the throne,
    Sweeter than chime of silver bells,
    "Forever and ever His will be done!"

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