{"product_id":"2940148921608","title":"Seaward (Illustrated)","description":"HE tide is in the marshes. Far away\u003cbr\u003eIn Nova Scotia's woods they follow me,\u003cbr\u003eMarshes of distant Massachusetts Bay,\u003cbr\u003eDear marshes, where the dead once loved to be!\u003cbr\u003eI see them lying yellow in the sun,\u003cbr\u003eAnd hear the mighty tremor of the sea\u003cbr\u003eBeyond the dunes where blue cloud-shadows run.\u003cbr\u003eII.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e KNOW that there the tide is coming in,\u003cbr\u003eSecret and slow, for in my heart I feel\u003cbr\u003eThe silent swelling of a stress akin;\u003cbr\u003eAnd in my vision, lo! blue glimpses steal\u003cbr\u003eAcross the yellow marsh-grass, where the flood,\u003cbr\u003eFilling the empty channels, lifts the keel\u003cbr\u003eOf one lone cat-boat bedded in the mud.\u003cbr\u003eIII.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe tide is in the marshes. Kingscroft fades;\u003cbr\u003eIt is not Minas there across the lea;\u003cbr\u003eBut I am standing under pilgrim shades\u003cbr\u003eFar off where Scituate lapses to the sea.\u003cbr\u003eAnd he, my elder brother in the muse,\u003cbr\u003eThe poet of the Charles and Italy,\u003cbr\u003eStands by my side, Song's gentle, shy recluse.\u003cbr\u003eIV.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHE hermit thrush of singers, few might draw\u003cbr\u003eSo near his ambush in the solitude\u003cbr\u003eAs to be witness of the holy awe\u003cbr\u003eAnd passionate sweetness of his singing mood.\u003cbr\u003eNot oft he sang, and then in ways apart,\u003cbr\u003eWhere foppish ignorance might not intrude\u003cbr\u003eTo mar the joy of his sufficing art.\u003cbr\u003eV.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOnly for love of song he sang, unbid\u003cbr\u003eAnd unexpectant of responsive praise;\u003cbr\u003eBut they that loved and sought him where he hid,\u003cbr\u003eForbearing to profane his templed ways,\u003cbr\u003eWent marveling if that clear voice they heard\u003cbr\u003ePass thrilling through the hushed religious maze,\u003cbr\u003eWere of a spirit singing or a bird.\u003cbr\u003eVI.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eLAS! he is not here, he will not sing;\u003cbr\u003eThe air is empty of him evermore.\u003cbr\u003eAlone I watch the slow kelp-gatherers bring\u003cbr\u003eTheir dories full of sea-moss to the shore.\u003cbr\u003eNo gentle eyes look out to sea with mine,\u003cbr\u003eNo gentle lips are uttering quaint lore,\u003cbr\u003eNo hand is on my shoulder for a sign.\u003cbr\u003eVII.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFar, far, so far, the crying of the surf!\u003cbr\u003eStill, still, so still, the water in the grass!\u003cbr\u003eHere on the knoll the crickets in the turf\u003cbr\u003eAnd one bold squirrel barking, seek, alas!\u003cbr\u003eTo bring the swarming summer back to me.\u003cbr\u003eIn vain; my heart is on the salt morass\u003cbr\u003eBelow, that stretches to the sunlit sea.\u003cbr\u003eVIII.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNTERMINABLE, not to be divined,\u003cbr\u003eThe ocean's solemn distances recede;\u003cbr\u003eA gospel of glad color to the mind,\u003cbr\u003eBut for the soul a voice of sterner creed.\u003cbr\u003eThe sadness of unfathomable things\u003cbr\u003eCalls from the waste and makes the heart give heed\u003cbr\u003eWith answering dirges, as a seashell sings.\u003cbr\u003eIX.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMother of infinite loss! Mother bereft!\u003cbr\u003eThou of the shaken hair! Far-questing Sea!\u003cbr\u003eSea of the lapsing wail of waves! O left\u003cbr\u003eOf many lovers! Lone, lamenting Sea!\u003cbr\u003eDesolate, prone, disheveled, lost, sublime!\u003cbr\u003eUnquelled and reckless! Mad, despairing Sea!\u003cbr\u003eWail, for I wait—wail, ancient dirge of Time!\u003cbr\u003eX.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eO more, no more that brow to greet, no more!\u003cbr\u003eMourn, bitter heart! mourn, fool of Fate! Again\u003cbr\u003eThy lover leaves thee; from thy pleading shore\u003cbr\u003eSwept far beyond the caverns of the rain,\u003cbr\u003eNo phantom of him lingers on the air.\u003cbr\u003eThy foamy fingers reach for his—in vain!\u003cbr\u003eIn vain thy salt breath searches for his hair!\u003cbr\u003eXI.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMourn gently, tranquil marshes, mourn with me!\u003cbr\u003eMourn, if acceptance so serene can mourn!\u003cbr\u003eGrieve, marshes, though your noonday melody\u003cbr\u003eOf color thrill through sorrow like a horn\u003cbr\u003eBlown far in Elfland! Mourn, free-wandering dunes!\u003cbr\u003eFor he has left you of his voice forlorn,\u003cbr\u003eWho sang your slopes full of an hundred Junes.\u003cbr\u003eXII.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e VIKING Death, what hast thou done with him?\u003cbr\u003eSea-wolf of Fate, marauder of the shore!\u003cbr\u003eStorm-reveler, to what carousal grim\u003cbr\u003eHast thou compelled him? Hark! through the Sea's roar\u003cbr\u003eHeroic laughter mocking us afar!\u003cbr\u003eThere will no answer come forevermore,\u003cbr\u003eThough for his sake Song beacon to a star.\u003cbr\u003e","brand":"Lost Leaf Publications","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":47180753797360,"sku":"2940148921608","price":0.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0737\/7593\/9824\/files\/2940148921608_p0.jpg?v=1763709997","url":"https:\/\/shop-qa.barnesandnoble.com\/products\/2940148921608","provider":"Barnes \u0026 Noble (DEV)","version":"1.0","type":"link"}