In the days before the high tide Swept away the towers of sand Built with so much care and labour By the children of the land. Pale, upon the pallid beaches, Thirsting, on the thirsty sands. Ever cried I to the Distance, Ever seaward spread my hands. See, they come, they come, the ripples, Singing, singing fast and low, Meet the longing of the sea-shores, Clasp them, kiss them once, and go. 'Stay, sweet Ocean, satisfying All desires into rest --' Not a word the Ocean answered, Rolling sunward down the west. Then I wept: 'Oh, who will give me To behold the stable sea, On whose tideless shores for ever Sounds of many waters be?' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NO PLATONIQUE LOVE by WILLIAM CARTWRIGHT LESSER EPISTLES: TO BERNARD LINTOTT by JOHN GAY TO SPAIN - A LAST WORD by EDITH MATILDA THOMAS TO MRS. MARISSAL by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD OLD THINGS by THOMAS T. BLEWETT IN VINCULIS; SONNETS WRITTEN IN AN IRISH PRISON: FAREWELL DARK by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |