She is the sea; and he is the fisher
Who watches the surf sliding over the sand:
She is the sea; and he the fond wisher,
Who waits with his hook and coiled line on the strand.
The tide when right in will be foaming and fish-full –
Silvered with herring, blue-mackerel-teeming – :
She is the sea; and he stands there, wish-full,
Ready to cast, awaiting the gleaming
Of silver and blue in the surging-green-streaming.