The sea-birds sing on the mossy crag, And the waters rush and lave; The sands gleam white in the pale moonlight Down by the sad sea-wave. I sit and dream of the days gone by As the sails glide o'er the sea; I wait and I watch, but one white-winged sail Will never come back to me. The waves come rushing from far-off lands. The breezes come rushing too; They carry the spices upon their wings. The skies in their waters blue. They bring with them bits of those far-off lands, Tinted shells with the ocean's moan; They bring with them branches of coral reef From the depths of a mermaid's home. And bark from the trunk of some southern plant, And ferns from a tropic grove, And scented grasses and blossoms and fronds From the forests of nutmeg and clove. The wild winds murmur; the pink-lipped shells Speak low of the lands and sea; But their voices grow sad when they speak of one Who never came back to me. So I sit and wonder how far away Is the land where the wild fern grew; I sit and wonder how deep and dark Are the waters of shim'ring blue. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ODE TO ETHIOPIA by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR WITHOUT CEREMONY by THOMAS HARDY IMPROMPTU TO LADY WINCHILSEA by ALEXANDER POPE IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 124 by ALFRED TENNYSON AN AUTOGRAPH (1) by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER DRAB BONNETS by BERNARD BARTON PSALM 140 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE LA VILLE DU DETROIT by LEVI BISHOP IN VINCULIS; SONNETS WRITTEN IN AN IRISH PRISON: DEEDS MIGHT HAVE BEEN by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |