IX. THE SANDS.

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Each shall have his own love,
High be linked to high,
Sky be kissing mountain,
Mountain kissing sky.

Dozing in the orchard
Let the goodman sit,
Count on summer evenings
Apples he will eat.

Glory to the sands O!
Glory give who can,
Where a man, who stands O!
Feels himself a man.

Where the east wind gallops,
Keen with keen-edged knife,
And the wide world freshens,
Salted with sea-life.

Where the great free waters
Have their freedom rolled,
And the golden sunbeams
Powdered them with gold.

Blow, ye winds, your trumpets,
Blow, ye winds, your fife,
Glory to the sands O!
Salted with sea-life.

With the sea-bird shrieking
To the sea below,
Clang thy wild clang, sea-bird,
Sea, thy organ blow.

The beach by Moel Ynys

When the summer whispers
Float in o’er the sea,
Then a moving rainbow
Spreads itself o’er thee.

Rainbow light and silver,
Silver sheen and gold,
All the light of childhood,
Happy childhood bold.

There it gleams and glistens
Moving as we go,
Light of sun or childhood,
Who is skilled to know?

Liberty and joyance
Still ye give each one,
Manhood with the east wind,
Childhood with the sun.

Blow, ye winds, your trumpets,
Blow, ye winds, your fife,
Glory to the sands O!
Salted with sea-life.

With the sea-bird shrieking
To the sea below;
Clang thy wild clang, sea-bird,
Sea, thy organ blow.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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