Waiting by The Sea.

From: The Bird and the Bell with Other Poems (1875)
Author: Christopher Pearse Cranch
Published: Osgood and Company 1875 Boston


ALONE upon the windy hills
I stand and face the open sea,
And drink the southern breeze which fills
The sails that bring my love to me.

Fa out the shores and woodlands reach,
Till lost in mists of pearly gray,
Or crossed by lines of yellow beach,
And flashing breakers far away.

Alone upon the windy slopes
I watch the long blue level wall
Of ocean, where my winged hopes
Like fluttering sea-birds fly and call.

O happy pilot-boats that dance
Across the sparkling miles of sea!
O greet her, should ye hail by chance
The ship that bears my love to me!

And does she lean upon the deck
And strain her eyes till land appears,
As I to catch the white-winged speck
That clears away my gathering fears?

By long low beach and wooded crag
The crowded sails go glimmering past;
But none that bear the well-known flag
And pennon streaming from the mast.

O ocean, wrinkling in the sun!
O breeze that blowest from the sea I
Waft into port, ere day is done,
My love, my life, again to me!

She comes, she comes! I see the sails
Like rounded sea-shells full and white.
I hear the booming gun that hails
The coming of my heart’s delight.

I hear the sailors’ distant song;
They crowd the deck in bustling glee;
And there is one amid the throng
Who waves a rosy scarf to me.

The sun has set; the air is still;
The twilight reddens o’er the sea;
The full moon rises o’er the hill;
But joy like sunrise shines for me.


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