WHEN winds that move not its calm surface sweep The azure sea, I love the land no more; The smiles of the serene and tranquil deep Tempt my unquiet mind. But when the roar Of ocean's gray abyss resounds, and foam Gathers upon the sea, and vast waves burst, I turn from the drear aspect to the home Of earth and its deep woods, where, inter-spersed, When winds blow lound, pines make sweet melody. Whose house is some lone bark, whose toil the sea, Whose prey the wandering fish, an evil lot Has chosen. But I my languid limbs will fling Beneath the plane, where the brook's murmuring Moves the calm spirit, but disturbs it not. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE ORCHARD PIT by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI SONNET (2) by JOACHIM DU BELLAY HAYING, VERMONT AND GINGER DRINK COORDINATED by DANIEL LEAVENS CADY MIRAGE by RICHARD THOMAS CHURCH CALIFORNIA by MARY CAROLYN DAVIES THE WANDERER by HENRY AUSTIN DOBSON SONNET: 1 by DIGBY MACKWORTH DOLBEN EASTER by WILLIAM ARTHUR DUNKERLEY FOR SIR JOHN VANBRUGH, ARCHITECT. AN EPIGRAMMICAL EPITAPH by ABEL EVANS |