THE INLANDER.
I never climb a high hill Or gaze across the lea, But, oh, beyond the two of them, Beyond the height and blue of them, I'm locking for the sea. A blue sea —a crooning cea — A gray sea lashed with foamBut, oh, to take tha drift of it, To know the surge and lift of it, And 'tis I am longing for it as the homeless long for home. I never dream at night time Or close my eyes by day, But there I have the might of it, The wind-whipped, sun-drenched sight of it. That calls my soul away. Dh, deep dreams and happy dreams, It's dreaming still I'd be, For still the land I'm waging in, 'Tis that my heart is breaking in, And 'tis far where I'd be sleeping with the blue waves over me. —Theodosia Garrison, " in "Hampton's Magazine."
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King Country Chronicle, Volume VII, Issue 528, 21 December 1912, Page 7
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146THE INLANDER. King Country Chronicle, Volume VII, Issue 528, 21 December 1912, Page 7
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