Not you whose throat no more May cool as water cools These hands that would implore, These fingers that were fools -- But the sea's polished shock, Sea roar on rock. Eyes dart and moods conflict, And other throats are white Sweet wine: no interdict Seals long the roving sight -- But a wave's towering intake Before the break. The censers overturned, The smoke spilled in the sand, The hand that groped -- and burned Touching your hand -- Not that! . . . . But the small noise known To water and stone. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE COTTER'S SATURDAY NIGHT by ROBERT BURNS ASSUNPINK AND PRINCETON [JANUARY 3, 1777] by THOMAS DUNN ENGLISH EDEN BOWER by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI THE WHITE ROAD UP ATHIRT THE HILL by WILLIAM BARNES UNCLE AN' AUNT by WILLIAM BARNES THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 25, ASKING FOR HER HEART (3) by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |