First Merchant Monologue from The Land of Heart's Desire

From The Land of Heart's Desire by W.B. Yeats

male · contemplative · 51 sec

I will call them hither. [He opens the window. Come hither, hither, hither, water-folk: Come, all you elemental populace; Leave lonely the long-hoarding surges: leave The cymbals of the waves to clash alone, And, shaking the sea-tangles from your hair, Gather about us. [After a pause. I can hear a sound As from waves beating upon distant strands; And the sea-creatures, like a surf of light, Pour eddying through the pathways of the oaks; And as they come, the sentient grass and leaves Bow towards them, and the tall, drouth-jaded oaks Fondle the murmur of their flying feet.

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