She is the sea; and he is the fisher
      Who watches the surf sliding over the sand:

She is the sea; and he the fond wisher,
      Who waits with his hook and coiled line on the strand.

The tide when right in will be foaming and fish-full –
      Silvered with herring, blue-mackerel-teeming – :
She is the sea; and he stands there, wish-full,
      Ready to cast, awaiting the gleaming
      Of silver and blue in the surging-green-streaming.