Ocean is man's great thought. He comes Intemperate of mood to seek and trace Across her bounding surface the brave sums Of truth his pride invites; the green-lit grace Of waters is upon him. Earth is gone. All loamy fields long plowed, the breasts well kissed, Dispel their purpose; he is free, alone, And thought is on him like perpetual mist. He is not less earth's own for being given A season to this greatness. In his veins The myrtle garden where the spade is driven Grows green for burial of what remains. His body answers earth. But here, salt sweet, All wisdom haunts him, earthless and complete. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE [EXCELLENT] BALLADE OF CHARITIE by THOMAS CHATTERTON EPITAPH ON HIMSELF by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE AT CASTERBRIDGE FAIR: 4. THE MARKET-GIRL by THOMAS HARDY THE REALM OF FANCY by JOHN KEATS LOVE SONGS TO JOANNES by MINA LOY ODE [FOR MUSIC] ON ST. CECILIA'S DAY by ALEXANDER POPE |