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Poem by Clinton Scollard

A Sailor Amid the Hills

  What does he hear in dreams? The surging wind,
    Its long-drawn cadence, its wild harmony,
  A mighty harp of infinite strings designed,
    Whose sound to him seems sweet immeasurably?
  Nay, nay, but through the spaces of his mind,
  Plangent or pleading, loud or low-defined,
    The ever-haunting murmur of the sea!

Clinton Scollard

Clinton Scollard's other poems:
  1. Dirge for a Sailor
  2. The Cripple
  3. The Tides
  4. The Little Creek Coonana
  5. The Speech of the Sea

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