ASHORE

What are the heaths and hills to me?

I'm a-longing for the sea!

What are the flowers that dapple the dell,

And the ripple of swallow-wings over the dusk;

What are the church and the folk who tell

Their hearts to God?— my heart is a husk!

( I'm a-longing for the sea! )

Aye! for there is no peace to me —

But on the peaceless sea!

Never a child was glad at my knee,

And the soul of a woman has never been mine.

What can a woman's kisses be?—

I fear to think how her arms would twine.

( I'm a-longing for the sea! )

So, not a home and ease for me —

But still the homeless sea!

Where I may swing my sorrow to sleep

In a hammock hung o'er the voice of the waves,

Where I may wake when the tempests heap

And hurl their hate — and a brave ship saves.

( I'm a-longing for the sea! )

Then when I die, a grave for me —

But in the graveless sea!

Where is no stone for an eye to spell

Thro’ the lichen a name, a date and a verse.

Let me be laid in the deeps that swell

And sigh and wander — an ocean hearse!

( I'm a-longing for the sea! )