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Fires of Driftwood by Isabel Ecclestone Mackay
page 75 of 107 (70%)
Lay Thou my baby on his breast
To keep him safe from fear and harm!




The Vassal


WIND of the North, O far, wild wind
Born of a far, lone sea--
When suns are soft and breezes kind
Why are you kin to me?

Uncounted years above the sea,
Rock-fortressed from its rage,
The fishermen, your fathers, kept
A barren heritage--
Grim as the sea they forced to pay
The sea-toll of their wage.

And lo! The fate which made you hers
And gave you of her best
And set you in a sunny place,
Down-sloping to the West,
Forgot to change your fisher's heart
Serf to the sea's unrest!

Wind of the North! O bitter wind,
I hear the wild seas fret--
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