There is a space at the edge of the land. A space where the horizon meets the sky. Where the silence is only filled with a soothing sound of ebb and flow. Time and tide have no meaning there. It's the most peaceful space that exists.
The tide rises, the tide falls, The twilight darkens, the curlew calls; Along the sea-sands damp and brown The traveller hastens toward the town, And the tide rises, the tide falls.
Darkness settles on roofs and walls, But the sea, the sea in the darkness calls; The little waves, with their soft, white hands, Efface the footprints in the sands, And the tide rises, the tide falls.
The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls; The day returns, but nevermore Returns the traveller to the shore, And the tide rises, the tide falls.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Let's swim to the moon Let's climb through the tide Surrender to the waiting worlds That lap against our side.
Deep in the night I climb the stairway to the sea And pretend you are there beside me I see us there upon the stairway to the sea Where the mist softly kissed two lovers Hiding from others our love by the sea
I have to find a place to hide An island in the sea Surrounded by a racing tide Where I can live with me
Beautiful iron pier of the silvery sea All your numerous arches and pillars are so grand to me And pagoda and legs which seem to the eye To be almost reaching up to the sky. The greatest wonder it must be And a great beautification to the Severn Sea Most beautiful may I boast Near by Clevedon and the Somerset coast.
Let only the young come, Says the sea.
Let them kiss my face And hear me. I am the last word And I tell Where storms and stars come from.