On one side lay the Ocean, and on one/ Lay a great water, and the moon was full.
From the great deep to the great deep he goes.
Forward, forward let us range, Let the great world spin for ever down the ringing grooves of change
My purpose holds/ To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths/ Of all the western stars, until I die./ It may be that the gulfs will wash us down;/ It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles/ And see the great Achilles.
O great and sane and simple race of brutes/ That own no lust because they have no law!
No little lily-handed Baronet he,/ A great broad-shouldered genial Englishman,/ A lord of fat prize-oxen and of sheep,/ A raiser of huge melons and of pine,/ A patron of some thirty charities.
Great in council and great in war,/ Foremost captain of his time.