Читать книгу Threads of Grey and Gold - Reed Myrtle - Страница 9

Beyond the sands I hear the sea-voice calling

With passion all but human in its pain,

While from my eyes the bitter tears are falling,

And all the summer land seems blind with rain;

For out within those waters, cruel, changeless,

She sleeps, beyond all rage of earth or sea,

A smile upon her dear lips, dumb, but waiting,

And I – I hear the sea-voice calling me.

The tide comes in. The moonlight flood and glory

Of that unresting surge thrill earth with bliss,

And I can hear the passionate sweet story

Of waves that waited round her for her kiss.

Sweetheart, they love you; silent and unseeing,

Old Ocean holds his court around you there,

And while I reach out through the dark to find you

His fingers twine the sea-weed in your hair.

The tide goes out and in the dawn’s new splendour

The dreams of dark first fade, then pass away,

And I awake from visions soft and tender

To face the shuddering agony of day

For out within those waters, cruel, changeless,

She sleeps, beyond all rage of earth or sea;

A smile upon her dear lips, dumb, but waiting,

And I – I hear the sea-voice calling me.