Listen to the twittering of the birds in the sky,
The honey voice of the bees in the sun,
The call from the screeching of a cricket,
Reminding the night of the glorious become of a beaming day, ...
Where river and ocean meet in a great tempestuous
frown,
Beyond the bar, where on the dunes the white-
capped rollers break;
Above, one windmill stands forlorn on the arid,
grassy down:
I will set my sail on a stormy day and cross the
bar and seek
... Read complete poem