of waves ? How good that old - world The 



rejoicing in the great green wilderness of Sea-Spell. 



waters, in the foam-swept blue meads, in the 



cry of the wind and the chant of the billows 



and the sharp sting of flying scud ? It is of 



to-day also. A multitude of us rejoice as those 



of old rejoiced, though we have changed in so 



much with all the incalculable change of the 



years. To-day as then the poets of the isles 



. . . the poet in the heart of each of us who 



loves the glory and beauty and in any degree 



feels the strong spell of the sea . . . answer to 



that clarion-music : as in this Evoil ! by one 



of the latest among them : — 



" Oceanward, the sea-horses sweep magnificently, champing 

 and whirling white foam about their green flanks, and tossing on 

 high their manes of sunlit rainbow-gold, dazzling white and 

 multitudinous far as sight can reach. 



" 0, champing horses of my soul, toss, toss on high your sun- 

 lit manes, your manes of rainbow-gold, dazzling-white and 

 multitudinous, for I loo rejoice, rejoice ! ' ' 



And who of us will forget that great English 

 poet of to-day, that supreme singer of — 



" Sky, and shore, and cloud, and waste, cmd sea," 



who has written so often and so magically of 

 the spell of the sea and of the elation of those 

 who commit themselves to the sway and 

 rhythm of its moving waters : — 



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