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TEY, Josephine

The Singing Sands

The beasts that talk,

The streams that stand,

The stones that walk,

The singing sand,

That guard the way

To Paradise.


'My lot is cast in inland places,

Far from sounding beach

And crying gull,

And I

Who knew the sea's voice from my babyhood

Must listen to a river purling

Through green fields,

And small birds gossiping

Among the leaves.'