THE OLD CAPTIVE
To hear once more the thunder of the surf,
To breathe once more the salt and stinging wind,
To set my cheek once more against the wave,
To look once more across the billowy Sea!
To breathe once more the salt and stinging wind,
To set my cheek once more against the wave,
To look once more across the billowy Sea!
Chained in the pen of silent heavy hills,
I dream hot nights of that sweet long ago,
When I leaped down the beach in the dim dawn,
And plunged to meet the sun—and knew the Sea!
I dream hot nights of that sweet long ago,
When I leaped down the beach in the dim dawn,
And plunged to meet the sun—and knew the Sea!
And they drove in the boats with a shout and a song,
And they spread wide the nets in the face o' the wind,
And the ship strained and dipped like a swooping bird,
And we rushed onward, mad for the open Sea!
And they spread wide the nets in the face o' the wind,
And the ship strained and dipped like a swooping bird,
And we rushed onward, mad for the open Sea!
Never to feed my eyes on strange dim coasts,
Never to touch a branch washed in by the tide,
Never to gaze on dark and silent men
From some far isle in the mysterious Sea!
Never to touch a branch washed in by the tide,
Never to gaze on dark and silent men
From some far isle in the mysterious Sea!
Never to see the white sails gleam and fade,
Nor watch black masts against the setting sun,
Never to glide within some wondrous port,
Nor breathe spice winds blown soft across the Sea!
Nor watch black masts against the setting sun,
Never to glide within some wondrous port,
Nor breathe spice winds blown soft across the Sea!
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