Isabel Ecclestone Mackay (25 November 1875 – 15 August 1928 / Canada)
WIND of the North, O far, wild wind
Born of a far, lone sea--
When suns are soft and breezes kind
Why are you kin to me?
Uncounted years above the sea,
Rock-fortressed from its rage,
The fishermen, your fathers, kept
A barren heritage--
Grim as the sea they forced to pay
The sea-toll of their wage.
And lo! The fate which made you hers
And gave you of her best
And set you in a sunny place,
Down-sloping to the West,
Forgot to change your fisher's heart
Serf to the sea's unrest!
Wind of the North! O bitter wind,
I hear the wild seas fret--
In the dim spaces of the mind
They claim me vassal yet!
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