| In the beginning
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| I was counting the stones on the seashore
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| Looking for the precious ones
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| Among the stones, I found many pretty things
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| While the sea rolled on beside me all the time
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| Time moved on
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| I had collected many stones 'til I tired of them
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| And I think they tired of me
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| Some were lovely, but I was never satisfied
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| And the sea rolled on beside me all the time
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| And the wind rose, east and cold
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| Whisp’ring sweetly to my soul
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| And it said «Look you fool
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| You are missing precious things:
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| Raise your eyes and look towards the sea.»
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| So I looked:
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| It was as if I saw the sea for the first time
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| And it’s power captured me
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| All the time I had wasted seeking stones
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| I had missed the rolling glory of the sea
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| And the sea
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| Devoured a mighty swathe of heart, overwhelmed me
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| In a way I couldn’t know
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| And the price for the love of greater things
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| Was surrender to the great and cruel sea
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| And it stole me, and I feared the aching sea
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| It consumed me, drowned my mind
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| The wind said «Look, you fool
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| No matter what you do
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| You can’t contain the ocean like a stone.» |