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— In the dim spaces of the mind They claim me vassal yet!