A Woman's Love Letters
Sea-Song.

A dash of spray,

A weed-browned way,—

My ship's in the bay,

In the glad blue bay,—

The wind's from the west

And the waves have a crest,

But my bird's in the nest

And my ship's in the bay!

At dawn to stand

Soft hand to hand,

Bare feet on the sand,—

On the hard brown sand,—

To wait, dew-crowned,

For the tarrying sound

Of a keel that will ground

On the scraping sand.

[Pg 43]

A glad surprise

In the wind-swept skies


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