Out on the spit, beyond the welt'ring wave
The waters, calm and glassy at my feet,
Still lie, yet safe I feel within my nave,
My universe where earth and heaven meet.
Still I ache for the mainland,
The continent to which I know I'm bound,
Bound by a stony finger
Which beckons, scolds, and tickles me at once.
In weather foul and fair I'm drawn to this
Same place; perhaps 'tis better just to stay --
It's here, my one true home, none hears me sigh,
Out on the spit, beyond the welt'ring wave.
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