The Sea and the Skylark

The sea is never still; its local moods,
Its fitful personalities,
And every accent of that distance,
And every phase of the sky’s things.

Sky-lark, to me,
Thou neverest still, nigh thee in the sea,
Venus overhead uncontended cries The hours austere, those friends of the
His songs—they are my ocean tides.

• George Meredith

• George Meredith