I am a pool in a peaceful place, br I greet the great sky face to face, br I know the stars and the stately moon br And the wind that runs with rippling shoon-- br But why does it always bring to me br The far-off, beautiful sound of the sea? br br The marsh-grass weaves me a wall of green, br But the wind comes whispering in between, br In the dead of night when the sky is deep br The wind comes waking me out of sleep-- br Why does it always bring to me br The far-off, terrible call of the sea?br br Sara Teasdalebr br