Sounds of the Sea -- Cumberland Sound

These pictures were taken this week from the pier at Fort Clinch State Park of Cumberland Sound.  I basically had the pier to myself.  In the "Sound of the Sea", Henry Wadsworth Longfellow describes the sound of the sea waves as they lap against the shore and the tide rises.  He compares the rush of the tide to rushes of inspiration people experience sometimes.

"Sit in reverie and watch the changing color of the waves
that break upon the idle seashore of the mind."
-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The Sound of the Sea

The sea awoke at midnight from its sleep,
  And round the pebbly beaches far and wide
  I heard the first wave of the rising tide
  Rush onward with uninterrupted sweep;
A voice out of the silence of the deep,
  A sound mysteriously multiplied
  As of a cataract from the mountain's side,
  Or roar of winds upon a wooded steep.
So comes to us at times, from the unknown
  And inaccessible solitudes of being,
  The rushing of the sea-tides of the soul;
And inspirations, that we deem our own,
  Are some divine foreshadowing and foreseeing
  Of things beyond our reason or control.

A Sea Bird's Paradise Cumberland Sound

 

At Cumberland Sound the beach was covered with seabirds and their nests.  The sky, ocean and beach was painted in watercolor shades of blue and beige.  The fishing pier was the longest pier I have ever walked.  A family of Dolphins were swimming close to the bridge diving in and out of the water.  This is a place I plan to return, time and time again.  It was breath taking seeing so much sea life in one place.

 

To A Sea Bird (Santa Cruz 1869)

 

Sauntering hither on listless wings,
Careless vagabond of the sea,
Little thou heedest the surf that sings,
The bar that thunders, the shale that rings,-
Give me to keep thy company.

Little thou hast, old friend, that 's new;
Storms and wrecks are old things to thee;
Sick am I of these changes, too;
Little to care for, little to rue,-
I on the shore, and thou on the sea.

All of thy wanderings, far and near,
Bring thee at last to shore and me;
All of my journeyings end them here:
This our tether must be our cheer,-
I on the shore, and thou on the sea.

Lazily rocking on ocean's breast,
Something in common, old friend, have we:
Thou on the shingle seek'st thy nest,
I to the waters look for rest,-
I on the shore, and thou on the sea.

By Francis Bret Harte

Francis Bret Harte (August 25, 1837 - May 6, 1902) was an American author and poet, who worked in a number of different professional capacities including miner, teacher, messenger and journalist before turning to full time writing in 1871. 
Bret Harte moved to California in 1853 and spent part of his life in a mining camp near Humboldt Bay (the current town of Arcata), a setting which provided material for some of his works. While The Luck of Roaring Camp (published in 1968) made Bret Harte famous nationwide and helped him to land a writing contract with a publisher in 1871, he faltered and was without a contract by 1872. In 1878 Bret Harte was appointed as United States Consul in Krefeld, Germany and then to Glasgow in 1880. He spent thirty years in Europe, moving to London in 1885. He died in England of throat cancer in 1902. Bret Harte's literary output improved while he was in Europe and helped to revive his popularity. The Outcasts of Poker Flat and Tennessee's Partner join The Luck of Roaring Camp on the list of his influential works.

Fort Clinch - An Old Historic Military Post

The fort was named for General Duncan Lamont Clinch, a prominent figure in the Second Seminole War in Florida.  The construction of the fort started in 1867 and is built at the mouth of the St. Mary's River to protect the port of Fernandina.  The fort served as a military post during the Civil War, Spanish-American war and World War II.

 

 

Battle Hymn of the Republic
by Julia Ward Howe

Chorus:
Glory, Glory Hallelujah, Glory, Glory Hallelujah,
Glory, Glory Hallelujah, His truth is marching on.

Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord;
He is trampling out the vintage where grapes of wrath are stored;
he hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword,
His truth is marching on. (Chorus)

I have seen Him in the watch fires of a hundred circling camps;
They have built Him an altar in the evening dews and damps;
I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps,
His day is marching on. (Chorus)

He has founded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat;
He is sifting out the hearts of men before His Judgement Seat'
Oh! Be swift, my soul, to answer Him, be jubilant, my feet!
Our God is marching on. (Chorus)

In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea,
With a glory in his bosom that transfigures you and me;
As he died to make men holy, let us die to make men free,
While God is marching on. (Chorus) 

 

 

The author of the magnificent "Battle-Hymn of the Republic" was born in New York in 1819, a daughter of the banker Samuel Ward. In 1843 she married Dr. S. G. Howe, best known as the head of Perkins Institute for the Blind. She assisted him in editing his anti-slavery journal, the Boston Commonwealth. In 1861, at the time of this picture, she made her first trip to Washington, where her husband became interested in the work of the Sanitary Commission. During the visit the party was invited to a military review in the Virginia camps. On the way back she and the others in the carriage sang "John Brown's Body" to the applause of the soldiers by the roadside. Her pastor, who was in the party, words for the tune. That night the inspiration came; she wrote the best known of her poems and one of the finest products of the whole Civil War period. Her later life was devoted largely to the cause of woman suffrage. She died at Newport, October 17, 1910.