Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, DOVER CLIFF, by F. WYVILLE HOME


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

DOVER CLIFF, by                    
First Line: Last april, when the winds had lost their
Last Line: The utter sweetness of the violet.
Subject(s): Dover, England


LAST April, when the winds had lost their chill,
I lay down dreamily upon the verge
Of Shakespeare's Cliff, where sea and seawind scourge
The eternal barrier that withstands them still.
I heard the billows break beneath and fill
The wide air with the thunder of the surge;
And near my cheek, half fearful to emerge,
A violet grew upon the grassy hill.
There while I lay, Poet, I dreamed of thee.
Thy very voice, whose matchless music yet
O'ermasters all the world's, surrounded me,
Singing, and in the sound of it there met
With all the might and passion of the sea
The utter sweetness of the violet.





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