A thousand miles beyond this sun-steeped wall <br />Somewhere the waves creep cool along the sand, <br />The ebbing tide forsakes the listless land <br />With the old murmur, long and musical; <br />The windy waves mount up and curve and fall, <br />And round the rocks the foam blows up like snow,-- <br />Tho' I am inland far, I hear and know, <br />For I was born the sea's eternal thrall. <br />I would that I were there and over me <br />The cold insistence of the tide would roll, <br />Quenching this burning thing men call the soul,-- <br />Then with the ebbing I should drift and be <br />Less than the smallest shell along the shoal, <br />Less than the sea-gulls calling to the sea.<br /><br />Sara Teasdale<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sea-longing/
