Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE PIMPERNEL, by CELIA LEIGHTON THAXTER Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: She walks beside the silent shore- Last Line: Forgotten, is the pimpernel. Subject(s): Flowers; Longing; Love; Seashore; Beach; Coast; Shore | ||||||||
She walks beside the silent shore the tide is high, the breeze is still. No ripple breaks the ocean floor. The sunshine sleeps upon the hill. The turf is warm beneath her feet, bordering the beach of stone and shell, and thick about her path the sweet red blossoms of the pimpernel. "Oh, sleep not yet, my flower!" she cries, "nor prophesy of storm to come. Tell me that under steadfast skies fair winds shall bring my lover home." She stoops to gather flower and shell. She sits, and smiling, studies each. She hears the full tide rise and swell and whisper softly on the beach. Waking, she dreams a golden dream, remembering with what still delight to watch the sunset's fading gleam, here by the waves they stood last night. She leans on that encircling arm divinely strong with power to draw her nature, as the moon doth charm the swaying sea with heavenly law. All lost in bliss the moments glide. She feels his whisper, his caress. The murmur of the mustering tide brings her no presage of distress. What breaks her dream? She lifts her eyes reluctant to destroy the spell. The color from her bright cheek dies Close folded is the pimpernel. With rapid glance she scans the sky; rises a sudden wind and grows, and charged with storm the cloud-heaps lie. Well may the scarlet blossoms close. A touch, and bliss is turned to bale; life only keeps the sense of pain. The world holds naught save one white sail flying before the wind and rain. Broken upon the wheel of fear she wears the storm-vexed hour away, and now in gold and fire draws near the sunset of her troubled day. But to her sky is yet denied the sun that lights the world for her; she sweeps the rose-flushed ocean wide with eager eyes, the quick tears blur and lonely, lonely all the space stretches with never sign of sail, and sadder grows her wistful face; and all the sunset splendors fail. And cold and pale in still despair with heavier grief than tongue can tell, she sinksupon her lips a prayer, her cheek against the pimpernel. Bright blossoms wet with showery tears on her shut eyes their droplets shed. Only the wakened waves she hears that, singing, drown his rapid tread. "Sweet, I am here." Joy's gates swing wide and heaven is theirs, and all is well. And left beside the ebbing tide, forgotten, is the pimpernel. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SEASHORE by JOHN FREDERICK NIMS EASTERN LONG ISLAND by MARVIN BELL THE WIND IS BLOWING WEST by JOSEPH CERAVOLO IF SOMETHING SHOULD HAPPEN by LUCILLE CLIFTON THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER EMPTIES INTO THE GULF by LUCILLE CLIFTON GEOGRAPHY AS WARNING by MADELINE DEFREES POWER FAILURE by MADELINE DEFREES MAY MORNING by CELIA LEIGHTON THAXTER SPANIARDS' GRAVES AT THE ISLES OF SHOALS by CELIA LEIGHTON THAXTER |
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