English poem
A SAILOR AMID THE HILLS
by Clinton Scollard (1860–1932)
What does he hear in dreams? The surging wind, Its long-drawn cadence, its wild harmony, A mighty harp of infinite strings designed, Whose sound to him seems sweet immeasurably? Nay, nay, but through the spaces of his mind, Plangent or pleading, loud or low-defined, The ever-haunting murmur of the sea!