THE SEA TO THE SHORE 
     
    
   
   
    
     Lo, I have loved thee long, long have I yearned and 
     
     entreated! 
     
    
   
   
    
     Tell me how I may win thee, tell me how I must 
     
     woo 
     
    
   
   
    
     Shall I creep to thy white feet, in guise of a humble 
     
     lover? ' 
     
    
   
   
    
     Shall I croon in mild petition, murmuring vows 
     
     anew? 
     
    
   
   
    
     Shall I stretch my arms unto thee, biding thy maiden 
     
    
   
   
    
     coyness, 
     
     Under the silver of morning, under the purple of 
     
     night? 
     
     Taming my ancient rudeness, checking my heady 
     
     clamor— 
     
    
   
   
    
     Thus, is it thus I must woo thee, oh, my delight? 
     
    
   
   
    
     Nay, ’tis no way of the sea thus to be meekly suitor— 
     
     I shall storm thee away with laughter wrapped in 
     
     my beard of snow, 
     
     With the wildest of billows for chords I shall harp 
     
     thee a song for thy bridal, 
     
     A mighty lyric of love that feared not nor would 
     
     forego! 
     
    
   
   
    
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