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Here Is the Sea


Here indeed is the rising surf,
The sea you told me of:
A singing wind,
A sailing moon,
And the long, cool wash of wave.
And the breath of the storm-cloud:
Darkness
And the far, mysterious call
Of lonely gulls.
But all the simple sialor men
Who knew you in that day,
Tell me, Captain,
Where, indeed, are they?

Written by Arna Bontemps (1902-1973)

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