by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
I am coming, coming to thee,
My strong-armed lover, the Sea!
On thy great broad breast I will lie and rest,
And thou shalt talk to me.
I have come to thee, all unsought,
I have stolen an hour from thought,
And peace and power thou canst give in that hour,
Which thy rival Earth gives not.
Alone here, under the sky,
And the whole world drifting by!
Thy breast of brine thrills close to mine,
While the cloudless sun sails high.
I fly, but thou givest chase --
Thy kisses are on my face!
Be bold and free as thou wilt, O Sea,
There is life in thy close embrace.
Throat and cheek and tress
Are damp where thy salt lips press!
There is strength and bliss in thy daring kiss,
And joy in thy bold caress.
And what is the Earth to me!
I have left it all, O Sea!
With its dust and soil and strife and toil,
For one glad hour with thee.
Source:Poems of Sentiment
Gay And Hancock, Ltd., London