Sea-Gulls

Where the dark green hollows lift Into crests of snow, Wheeling, flashing, floating by, White against the stormy sky, With exultant call and cry Swift the sea-gulls go.

Fearless, vagabond and free, Children of the spray, Spirits of old mariners Drifting down the restless years-- Drake's and Hawkins' buccaneers, So do sea-men say.

Watching, guarding, sailing still Round the shores they knew, Where the cliffs of Devon rise Red against the sullen skies, (Dearer far than Paradise) 'Mid the tossing blue.

Not for them the heavenly song; Sweeter still they find Than those angels, row on row, Thunder of the bursting snow Seething on the rocks below, Singing of the wind.

Fairer than the streets of gold Those wild fields of foam, Where the horses of the sea Stamp and whinny ceaselessly, Warding from all enemy Shores they once called home.

So the sea-gulls call and cry 'Neath the cliffs to-day, Spirits of old mariners Drifting down the restless years-- Drake's and Hawkins' buccaneers-- So do sea-men say.