——
And some came down in a great wind
Under grey scurrying skies
To where the long wave-beaten shore
For ever shrieks and cries.
O, fling aside your toil, your care,
When one cries of the sea,
And the great waves that foam and toss,
And the white clouds that flee:
Let us forget our weariness,
Forget that we have sinned,
So we but sail, what matters it
If Death ride on the wind?
Storm from the sky, storm from the sea
Beat on them as they stood,
And a great longing sprang in them
To cross the roaring flood. . . .