As if the sea's eternal rote Might cease to set remembrance wild, The breezy hair, the lyric throat Were given to the surf-born child. And the great forest found a voice For her along the brookside brown, That bids the purple dusk rejoice, And croons the golden daylight down. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GETHSEMANE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON DOMESDAY BOOK: GEORGE JOSLIN ON LA MENKEN by EDGAR LEE MASTERS HOMAGE TO SEXTUS PROPERTIUS: 3 by EZRA POUND WHERE THE PICNIC WAS by THOMAS HARDY I HAVE A GARMENT by ABRAHAM IBN EZRA |