Across a thousand leagues of hill and plain I hear an echoing summons, loud and long, From breakers whose tumultuous battle song Sounds by the islets of the western main. I see them battering jagged cliffs in vain, Waging a truceless war of waters flying. And I go roaming where the gulls are crying, Lulled by old ocean's mournful-toned refrain. Freedom, and blowing winds, and that long reach Of glittering sand, shadowed at length by gray Of fog that overawes the thundering beach!— Still, still they haunt me, taunt me!—though to-day Is fairer than the days when these were mine, Days lonely as the sea, and salt as bitterest brine! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...REVELATION by LOUIS UNTERMEYER THE WINSOME WEE THING by ROBERT BURNS ODE ON MELANCHOLY by JOHN KEATS AUTUMN DAY by RAINER MARIA RILKE PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 51. ASH-SHAHID by EDWIN ARNOLD STORM ON SEACONNET by GEORGE SHEPARD BURLEIGH |