THE SEA-GULL. 91 
The waves may rage and the winds may roar, 
But he fears not wreck nor need, 
For he rides the sea, in its stormy strength, 
As a strong man rides his steed! 
Oh the white sea-gull, the bold sea-gull! 
He makes on the shore his nest, 
And he tries what the inland fields may be; 
But he loveth the sea the best! 
And away from land, a thousand leagues 
He goes ’mid surging foam ; 
What matter to him is land or shore, 
For the sea is his truest home! 
And away to the north ’mong ice-rocks stern, 
And among the frozen snow, 
To a sea that is lone and desolate, 
Will the wanton sea-gull go. 
For he careth not for the winter wild, 
Nor those desert-regions chill ; 
In the midst of the cold, as on calm, blue seas, 
The sea-gull hath his will! 
And the dead whale lies on the northern shores, 
And the seal, and the sea-horse grim, 
And the death of the great sea-creatures makes 
A full, merry feast for him! 
