THE INLANDER

By Theodosia Garrison

I never climb a high hill

Or gaze across the lea,

But, Oh, beyond the two of them,

Beyond the height and blue of them,

I'm looking for the sea.

A blue sea — a crooning sea —

A grey sea lashed with foam —

But, Oh, to take the drift of it,

To know the surge and lift of it,

And‘ tis I am longing for it as the homeless long for home.

I never dream at night-time

Or close my eyes by day,

But there I have the might of it,

The wind-whipped, sun-drenched sight of it,

That calls my soul away.

Oh, deep dreams and happy dreams,

Its dreaming still I'd be,

For still the land I'm waking in,

‘ Tis that my heart is breaking in,

And‘ tis far where I'd be sleeping with the blue waves over me.