The heat is on the sea, and Noon <br />Has hushed the sounds upon the shore; <br />There is a silence evermore <br />That with the heart is so in tune <br />That ear and eye their senses steep <br />As if within a dreamy dew, <br />As charmed as when the bells of Sleep <br />To Night's church, Sweet, are calling you. <br />A sail far off hushed in the light <br />Comes into view and fades, as 'twere <br />Something that rose from slumber there: <br />E'en as a blind man musing might <br />Image a bird upon the wing, <br />The picture seems to us the same, <br />The whole bright noon around the thing, <br />As if it with the silence came. <br />And still we lie in the warm grass, <br />Our senses on the shining sea, <br />While thought like a sweet lethargy <br />Counts not the moments as they pass; <br />As time itself had ceased to stir, <br />The glamour here on everything <br />Grows one with us, as all things were <br />Where now no winds are wandering.<br /><br />Robert Crawford<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/by-the-sea-17/
