<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=471053" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>On Seeing a Train Start for the Seaside</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">O might I leave this grassy place <br>For spreading foam about my feet! <br>The splendid spray upon my face, <br>The flying brine itself were sweet <br>If I might hear on Cromer beach <br>The freedom of Old Neptune's speech! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ah, never language like to this <br>For those whose ears can understand! <br>Sometimes the coming of a kiss <br>To mate the ocean with the strand; <br>Sometimes the nameless oath is heard <br>The sea-god thunders through his beard! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I have a sea of blue on high, <br>I have a sea of green beneath; <br>For me sweet inland birds do cry <br>Until with joy I hold my breath; <br>But Ocean's harp of wave and stone <br>Is bird and leaf and stream in one! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Upon my dancing apple-sprays <br>The blackbird whistles melodies; <br>Half through a mellow run he stays <br>And flashes to a neighbour's trees: <br>He's rare, but rarer now would be <br>The strident pebbles of the sea. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And is it strange that round the shore <br>The lyric water should rejoice? <br>Ah no! for ever more and more <br>The happy dead are in its voice. <br>Majestic poet! might I be <br>As full of song, as finely free!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Norman+Rowland+Gale">Norman Rowland Gale</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=471053" data-title="On Seeing a Train Start for the Seaside de Norman Rowland Gale" data-description="O might I leave this grassy place For spreading foam about my feet! The splendid spray upon my face, The flying brine itself were sweet If I might hear on Cromer beach The freedom of Old Neptune's speech! Ah, never language like to this Fo..."></div> </div> </div>

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