 | Fantasy and Passion |  |
3
SEA-GULLS.
The salt sea-wind is a merry-maker,
Rippling the wild bluff's daisied reach;
The quick surf glides from the arching breaker
And foams on the tawny beach.
Rippling the wild bluff's daisied reach;
The quick surf glides from the arching breaker
And foams on the tawny beach.
Out where the long reef glooms and glances
And tosses sunward its diamond rains,
Morn has pierced with her golden lances
The dizzy light-house panes.
And tosses sunward its diamond rains,
Morn has pierced with her golden lances
The dizzy light-house panes.
Gladdened by sounds of infinite surges,
Heedless what billow or gale may do,
The white gulls float where the ocean-verges
Blend with a glimmer of blue.
Heedless what billow or gale may do,
The white gulls float where the ocean-verges
Blend with a glimmer of blue.
I watch how the curtaining vapor settles
Dim on their tireless plumes far-borne,
Till faint they gleam as a blossom's petals
Blown through the spacious morn!
Dim on their tireless plumes far-borne,
Till faint they gleam as a blossom's petals
Blown through the spacious morn!
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