The moonchild

A little lonely child am I
That have not any soul;
God made me as the homeless wave,
That has no goal.

A seal my father was, a seal
That once was man;
My mother loved him tho' he was
'Neath mortal ban.

He took a wave and drowned her,
She took a wave and lifted him;
And I was born where shadows are
In sea-depths dim.

All through the sunny blue-sweet hours
I swim and glide in waters green;
Never by day the mournful shoures
By me are seen.

But when the gloom is on the wave
A shell unto the shore I bring;
And then upon the rocks I sit
And plaintive sing.

I have no playmate but the tide
The seaweed loves with dark brown eyes;
The night-waves have the stars for play,
For me but sighs.
By Fiona Macleod