To a Sea-Bird 



By Bret Harte 



Sauntering hither on Hstless wings, 



Careless vagabond of the sea, 

 Little thou heedest the surf that sings. 

 The bar that thunders, the shale that rings — 



Give me to keep thy company. 



Little thou hast, old friend, that's new, 

 Storms and wrecks are old things to thee; 



Sick am I of these changes, too ; 



Little to care for, little to rue, — 



I on the shore, and thou on the sea. 



All of thy wanderings, far and near, 



Bring thee at last to shore and me; 

 All of my journeyings end them here. 

 This our tether must be our cheer, — 

 I on the shore and thou on the sea. 



Lazily rocking on ocean's breast. 



Something in common, old friend, have we ; 

 Thou on the shingle seek'st thy nest, 

 I to the waters look for rest, — 



I on the shore, and thou on the sea. 



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