The Breakers

Where the waves are breaking Upon the rocks, and the light Of the setting sun is quaking In the waters warm and bright;
There a breeze is soft and tender,
And the ocean’s grand and free,
Is a scene I can’t remember,
But it haunts my memory.

With a cry the sea-bird flutters —
From her perch upon the foam —
How she charms me as she utters
Her wild song of ocean home!
O, the sea is ever calling
In the hush of evening’s light,
And I hear the waters falling
In a whisper soft and slight.

When the bright, blue star is waking,
In the paths of coming night,
Most the waves will be forsaking
All their sparkling waves of light,
And the moon to come will render
To the ocean harbours bright
Treasures that the day may cinder,
Which can only gleam at night.

• G L D Mackay