She came from some still mossiness <br />Of quiet ways; and stood with modest hands; <br />A warmth of body in a shy distress; <br />A white shell on the sands. <br />A slender shell she seemed; <br />And he, the sea <br />That rose and gathered, beat and dreamed <br />And longed so restlessly. <br />She saw him not this imminent, nor moved <br />Nor spoke. The hot sea swept; <br />And smothering her fears <br />It loosed and loved <br />And left her as she wept, <br />Wet with his clasp, and wet with all her tears.<br /><br />Leon Gellert<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/rapine/
