I'm a plain girl, whose hands are stained with earth. He is a fisherman—he's gay and keen. The far white sail is drowning in the firth. Many the seas and rivers he has seen. The women of the Bosphorus, they say, Are good-looking ... and I—I'm lean and black. The white sail drowns far out beyond the bay. It may be that he never will come back. I shall wait on in good and evil weather. If vainly, take my wage, go to the sea And cast the ring and hope away together. And my black braid will serve to strangle me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHURCH MONUMENTS by GEORGE HERBERT A BETTER RESURRECTION by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI TO THINK OF TIME by WALT WHITMAN I HAVE PRAYED by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS THE LORELEI by GUILLAUME APOLLINAIRE THE LAST MAN: LIFE'S UNCERTAINTY by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |