The Seven Seas

Our brows are wreathed with spindrift and the weed is on our knees; Our loins are battered 'neath us by the swinging, smoking seas. From reef and rock and skerry?over headland, ness and voe? The Coastwise Lights of England watch the ships of England go! Through the endless summer evenings, on the lineless, level floors; Through the yelling Channel tempest when the syren hoots and roars? By day the dipping house-flag and by night the rocket's trail? As the sheep that graze behind us so we know them where they hail. We bridge across the dark, and bid the helmsman have a care, The flash that wheeling inland wakes his sleeping wife to prayer; From our vexed eyries, head to gale, we bind in burning chains The lover from the sea-rim drawn?his love in English lanes.