This is the land the sunset washes, These are the banks of the Yellow Sea; Where it rose, or whither it rushes, These are the western mystery! Night after night her purple traffic Strews the landing with opal bales; Merchantmen poise upon horizons, Dip, and vanish with fairy sails. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LAMB, FR. SONGS OF INNOCENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE COMFORT [TO A YOUTH THAT HAD LOST HIS LOVE] by ROBERT HERRICK THE FEMALE GOD by ISAAC ROSENBERG THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 82. HOARDED JOY by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI OUR MASTER by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER S. JOHN BAPTIST by JOSEPH BEAUMONT |