THE SEA-GULL. 



FAR from the loud sea beaches, 

 Where he goes fishing and crying, 

 Here in the inland garden, 

 Why is the sea-gull flying ? 



Here are no fish to dive for ; 



Here is the corn and lea ; 

 Here are the green trees rustling. 



Hie away home to the sea! 



Fresh is the river water, 



And quiet among the rushes ; 

 This is no home for the sea-gull. 



But for the rooks and thrushes. 



Pity the bird that has wandered ! 



Pity the sailor ashore I 

 Hurry him home to the ocean, 



Let him come here no more ! . 



High on the sea-cliff ledges, 



The white gulls are trooping and crying ; 

 Here among rooks and roses, 



Why is the sea-gull flying ? 



Robert Louis Stevenson. 



