SWEEP on, the wave is curled with foam, Sweep on, the tide is bearing home, Sweep on, the breeze is fair; The sun himself hastes to the West, Where lies the home that I love best, -- Wave, tide, and breeze may rage or rest When I get there. The twilight smiles upon the sea, The stars shine out to pilot me; And one, amidst the glare Of all their host, --the evening star Stoops sweetly o'er my home afar, And says no storm my course shall mar, Till I get there. The listening of an anxious ear, The gaze that brightens through a tear, Out-feel the watcher's round. I only hear the breakers roar, I only see my own dear shore, 'T is I that soon shall tread once more My native ground. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A REPUBLIC! by EDGAR LEE MASTERS TOM BOWLING ['S EPITAPH] by CHARLES DIBDIN HIS GRANGE, OR PRIVATE WEALTH by ROBERT HERRICK SONNET: TO SLEEP by JOHN KEATS THE THREE FISHERS by CHARLES KINGSLEY |