Shoreline — Image by kenne
Sea-Bird! haunter of the wave,
Happy o’er its crest to hover;
Half-engulph’d where yawns the cave
Billows form in rolling over.
Sea-bird! seeker of the storm,
In its shriek thou dost rejoice;
Sending from thy bosom warm,
Answer shriller than its voice.
Bird of nervous wing and bright,
Flashing silvery to the sun,
Sporting with the sea-foam white,
When will thy wild course be done?
— from The Sea-Bird by Anna Maria Wells
