Wander Song

Anna WickhamContemplative

When I come to the end of the land, I find the sea,

With edges of cliff and breadths of sand To pleasure me.

When I raise my town-tired eyes There is blue and white, Or kings and castles of stormy skies. Or joy of night.

When I weary of all I see And tire even of space, I hold your love in memory. And your dear face.

Anna Wickham

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