Fires of Driftwood by Isabel Ecclestone Mackay
page 75 of 107 (70%)
page 75 of 107 (70%)
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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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