The Sea-mew screams in flight

The sea-mew screams in flight

Over the wild, wide sea;

And the wind has a weary murmur

Through the boughs of the leafless tree.

But O! the heart has music

In all its happy moods,

As if the golden summer

Were here among the trees.

There are clouds on the distant hills

And the sky is a misty grey;

And dimly loom the fishing smacks

Afar on the sunless bay.

But the heart can cherish beauty

And a pleasant vision weaves

As when the song of the woodlark

Came merryly sic through the trees.

O wind, on sand and shingle

Still dash the stormy spray.

I hear in thy hoarsest tumult

The silver voice of May.