Oh how I love the laughing sea,
 Sun lances splintering;
Or with a virile harmony
 In salty caves to sing;
Or mumbling pebbles on the shore,
 Or roused to monster might:
By day I love the sea, but more
 I love it in the night.

High over ocean hangs my home
 And when the moon is clear
I stare and stare till fairy foam
 Is music in my ear;
Till glamour dances to a tune
 No mortal man could make;
And there bewitched beneath the moon
 To beauty I awake.

Then though I seek my bed again
 And close the shutters tight,
Still, still I hear that wild refrain
 And see that mystic light . . .
Oh reckon me a crazy loon,
 But blesséd I will be
If my last seeing be the moon,
 My last sound--the Sea.