noon
And Mary sang also , accompanying herself on a quaint old Hungarian zither , which she said had been left with her father as guarantee for ten shillings which he had lent to a street musician wandering about Barnstaple . The street musician disappeared and the ten shillings were never returned , so Mary took possession of the zither , and with the aid of a cheap instruction book , managed to learn enough of its somewhat puzzling technique to accompany her own voice with a few full , rich , plaintive chords . And it was in this fashion that Angus heard her first sing what she called `` A song of the sea , '' running thus : I heard the sea cry out in the night Like a fretful child -- Moaning under the pale moonlight In a passion wild -- And my heart cried out with the sea , in tears , For the sweet lost joys of my vanished years ! I heard the sea laugh out in the noon Like a girl at play -- All forgot was the mournful moon In the dawn of day ! And my heart laughed out with the sea , in gladness , And I thought no more of bygone sadness . I think the sea is a part of me With its gloom and glory -- What Has Been , and what yet Shall Be Is all its story ; Rise up , O Heart , with the tidal flow , And drown the sorrows of Long Ago ! Something eerie and mystical there was in these words , sung as she sang them in a low , soft , contralto , sustained by the pathetic quiver of the zither strings throbbing under the pressure of her white fingers , and Angus asked her where she had learned the song .