PART II - SEA LONGING

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SEA LONGING

A THOUSAND miles beyond this sun-steeped wall
Somewhere the waves creep cool along the sand,
The ebbing tide forsakes the listless land
With the old murmur, long and musical;
The windy waves mount up and curve and fall,
And round the rocks the foam blows up like snow,--
Tho' I am inland far, I hear and know,
For I was born the sea's eternal thrall.
I would that I were there and over me
The cold insistence of the tide would roll,
Quenching this burning thing men call the soul,--
Then with the ebbing I should drift and be
Less than the smallest shell along the shoal,
Less than the sea-gulls calling to the sea.

Content of PART II: SEA LONGING [Sara Teasdale's poem collection: Rivers to the Sea]

Read next: PART II#THE RIVER

Read previous: PART II#THE LIGHTS OF NEW YORK

Table of content of Rivers to the Sea


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