Sea-Born by Virna Sheard — Read

Afar in the turbulent city, / In a hive where men make gold, / He stood at his loom from dawn to dark, / While the passing years were told.

And when he knew it was summer-time / By the grey dust on the street, / By the lingering hours of daylight, / And the sultry noon-tide heat --

Oh! he longed as a captive sea-bird / To leave his cage and be free, / For his heart like a shell kept singing / The old, old song of the sea.

And amid the noise and confusion / Of wheels that were never still, / He heard the wind through the scented pines / On a rough, storm-beaten hill;

While, beyond a maze of painted threads, / Where his tireless shuttle flew, / In fancy he saw the sunlit waves / Beckon him out to the blue.