Chapter C: Thalatta! Thalatta!

JOHN READE.

In my ear is the moan of the pines--in my heart is the song of
the sea,
And I feel his salt breath on my face as he showers his kisses
on me,
And I hear the wild scream of the gulls, as they answer the call
of the tide,
And I watch the fair sails as they glisten like gems on the breast
of a bride.

From the rock where I stand to the sun is a pathway of sapphire
and gold,
Like a waif of those Patmian visions that wrapt the lone seer
of old,
And it seems to my soul like an omen that calls me far over
the sea--
But I think of a little white cottage and one that is dearest to me.

Westward ho! Far away to the East is a cottage that looks to
the shore,--
Though each drop in the sea were a tear, as it was, I can see it
no more;
For the heart of its pride with the flowers of the "Vale of the
Shadow" reclines,
And--hush'd is the song of the sea and hoarse is the moan of
the pines.