Gateway to the Classics: Display Item
Rachel Lyman Field


Those who live by the sea

Too familiar grow

With the changing ways of it,

And its magic ebb and flow.

Nothing they see or care to know

Save when will the tide be high or low.

Though green waves glitter

With white flung spray,

By their kitchen fires

They bend all day.

They turn their backs on the selfsame sea

That can make the heart leap up in me!