(1858-1935 / England)

Changed Voices

Last night the seawind was to me
A metaphor of liberty,
And every wave along the beach
A starlit music seemed to be.

To-day the seawind is to me
A fettered soul that would be free,
And dumbly striving after speech
The tides yearn landward painfully.

To-morrow how shall sound for me
The changing voice of wind and sea?
What tidings shall be borne of each?
What rumour of what mystery?

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