To the salt sea - wind as she dried her hair. And the salt sea-wind was the first to caress her To praise her beauty and call her sweet, The first of the whole wide world to possess her, She, that creature of light and heat. Though the sea is old with its sorrows and angers, And the world has forgotten why love was born,

Blowing sharply from the sea-line, With an edge of salt that stings; How it laughs aloud, and passes, As it cuts the close cliff-grasses; How it sings again, and whistles As it shakes the stout sea-thistles — How it sings!

The far-off, beautiful sound of the sea? The marsh-grass weaves me a wall of green, But the wind comes whispering in between, In the dead of night when the sky is deep The wind comes waking me out of sleep— Why does it always bring to me The far-off, terrible call of the sea?

The Sea Wind by Sara Teasdale I am a pool in a peaceful place, I greet the great sky face to face, I know the stars and the stately moon And the wind that runs with rippling shoon But why does it always bring to me The far-off, beautiful sound of the sea?

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky, And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by; And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking, And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking. I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide