I'd tramped the whole day long on the weary roads ashore, <br />I was tired as a dog, and my heart was sick and sore, <br />By strange towns, and long roads, I'd plodded wearily <br />With ne'er a soul to call my friend, and far from the sea. <br /> <br />I climbed a hilly road in the driving, drenching rain; <br />There was mist like a fleece lying thick upon the plain, <br />And a wet west wind came blowing, came blowing fresh and free, <br />With a damp feel on my forehead and a smell of the sea. <br /> <br />O how should I mistake it, or how name it wrong, <br />What the heart of me was sick for all the weary road along? <br />The white fog was before me as thick as it could be, <br />But I knew my way was coastward, and my face to the sea. <br /> <br />O the chill breath a-blowing, and the salt on my lips, <br />From the seaport, and the roadstead, and the straining sails of ships! <br />O the sharp scent of the golden weed about the grey stone quay, <br />And the heart of me a-leaping at a smell of the sea!<br /><br />Cicely Fox Smith<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-smell-of-the-sea/
