The twilight is sad and cloudy, <br />The wind blows wild and free, <br />And like the wings of sea-birds <br />Flash the white caps of the sea. <br /> <br />But in the fisherman's cottage <br />There shines a ruddier light, <br />And a little face at the window <br />Peers out into the night. <br /> <br />Close, close it is pressed to the window, <br />As if those childish eyes <br />Were looking into the darkness, <br />To see some form arise. <br /> <br />And a woman's waving shadow <br />Is passing to and fro, <br />Now rising to the ceiling, <br />Now bowing and bending low. <br /> <br />What tale do the roaring ocean, <br />And the night-wind, bleak and wild, <br />As they beat at the crazy casement, <br />Tell to that little child? <br /> <br />And why do the roaring ocean, <br />And the night-wind, wild and bleak, <br />As they beat at the heart of the mother, <br />Drive the color from her cheek?<br /><br />Henry Wadsworth Longfellow<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/by-the-seaside-twilight/
