Lovelier than jewels, Or gold or argentry Is the little pitcher I bought upon the quay, The little pewter pitcher That lived in Brittany. I have it here beside me Upon the kitchen shelf And it keeps forever whispering And talking to itself: "Concarneau and Croissic And the clear, green seas; And all the sails skimming in, Canted in the breeze --" Yes; I see them coming, Yellow sails and blue, Every rakish angle, With the evening shining through, Orange sail and raspberry Sailing pert upon the sea. Now, I'm asking what the kind Of people these might be Who make them sails of yellow That steal the heart of me -- Sails of blue and yellow That never had their fellow, Of raspberry and orange, To flaunt upon the sea? But the little, sturdy pitcher Answers not a word: I doubt if it were listening Or if it ever heard. "Concarneau and Croissic," It whispers where it stands, "Concarneau and Croissic And the sweet, bare lands; Concarneau and Croissic And the long, long quay And the steeple bells tolling In the clear, green sea --" Do I hear a ringing, Silver, silver clear? Do I see a spire arise Out beyond the pier? At any rate, I see a crowd That's lounging on the quays -- And might I then be asking What style of folk are these Who keep them phantom cities Tolling in their seas? But the little pitcher Standing on my shelf Never heeds the question, But whispers to itself: "Concarneau and Croissic And the long, long quays And all the sails slanting On the clear, green seas --" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PREJUDICE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON WRINKLES by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR THE MAID OF NEIDPATH by WALTER SCOTT THE PERSIANS (PERSAE): THE BATTLE OF SALAMIS by AESCHYLUS A BLESSING FOR THE BLESSED by LAWRENCE ALMA-TADEMA |