THE SONG
Along the misty beaches, where the great wind-voices cry,
Where the sea's reverberant thunder sends its challenge to the sky,
And its deeper echoes lure us, from the countries where they die—
A song is sounding on!
I can hear it, clear and urgent, over all the breakers' rage;
It is pleading for the memory of a noble heritage;
'Twas a woman's voice that sang it, in a past heroic age—
Its call is sounding on.
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