A Marsh Island
The sea is all about us; the sea Is all about us: it is brimming with Its water; and we, on this marsh island, Can hear it clamoring night and day, as it Fills, with its murmurs, all the waves of The world; we are alone and free, while the surf is ever whispering, “You and I, we are one; you and I, We are alone and we are not of the world.”
A curlew shimmers by our floor, Veering with indescribable grace, The wild winds rustle through hill and hollow. Mingled with sun and air, we lie down. Beyond our ridge are all the sweet meadows, And down the grove, beyond the heath, Proud, among the tall trees, shines The wild foxglove, a figure of gentility.
The sea is thrumming all about us; it Echoes in the marsh—the night’s bouquet— In the pale light of the dusk, When the wind looms large In the meadow, we shall fade away.
- Sarah Orne Jewett