THE SAILOR

I have a young love— A landward lass is she— And thus she entreated: ‘O tell me of the sea, That on thy next voyage My thoughts may follow thee.’ I took her up a hill And showed her hills green, One after other With valleys between: So green and gentle, I said, Are the waves I’ve seen. I led her by the hand Down the grassy way, And showed her the hedgerows That were white with may: So white and fleeting, I said, Is the salt sea-spray. I bade her lean her head Down against my side, Rising and falling On my breath to ride: Thus rode the vessel, I said, On the rocking tide. For she so young is, and tender, I would not have her know What it is that I go to When to sea I must go, Lest she should lie awake and tremble When the great storm-winds blow.