Against the burly air I strode,
Where the tight ocean heaves its load,
Crying the miracles of God.

And first I brought the sea to bear
Upon the dead weight of the land;
And the waves flourished at my prayer,
The rivers spawned their sand.

And where the streams were salt and full, 
The tough pig-headed salmon strove, 
Curbing the ebb and the tide’s pull 
To reach the steady hills above.