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Charlotte Mew

Sea Love

Tide be runnin’ the great world over:
    ’Twas only last June month I mind that we
Was thinkin’ the toss and the call in the breast of the lover
    So everlastin’ as the sea.

Here’s the same little fishes that sputter and swim,
    Wi’ the moon’s old glim on the grey, wet sand;
An’ him no more to me nor me to him
    Than the wind goin’ over my hand.

About the poet

Charlotte MewCharlotte Mew
1869-1928

 
By the same poet
On the Road to the Sea
The Peddler
To a Child in Death
Madeleine in Church
The Farmer’s Bride
The Trees are Down
Ken
In Nunhead Cemetery
The Cenotaph
On the Asylum Road
June, 1915
The Call
I Have Been Through the Gates
Beside the Bed
 
Related books
Charlotte Mew at amazon.co.uk

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