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A wind comes in from the sea,

And rolls through the hollow dark

Like loud, tempestuous waters.

As the swift recurrent tide,

It pours adown the sky,

And rears at the cliffs of night

Uppiled against the vast.

Like the soul of the sea—

Hungry, unsatisfied

With ravin of shores and of ships—

Come forth on the land to seek

New prey of tideless coasts,

It raves, made hoarse with desire,

And the sounds of the night are dumb

With the sound of its passing.