ONCE, a new world, the sun-swart marinere, Columbus, promised, and was sore withstood, Ungraced, unhelped, unheard for many a year; But let at last to make his promise good. Promised and promising I go, most dear, To better my dull heart with love's sweet feud, My life with its most reverent hope and fear, And my religion, with fair gratitude. O we must part; the stars for me contend, And all the winds that blow on all the seas. Through wonderful waste places I must wend, And with a promise my sad soul appease. Promise then, promise much of far-off bliss; But -- ah, for present joy, give me one kiss. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OCTAVES: 21 by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON ON THE DEATH OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN by PHILIP FRENEAU JOHN BURNS OF GETTYSBURG by FRANCIS BRET HARTE MODERN LOVE: 43 by GEORGE MEREDITH SATURDAY IN Y' HOLY WEEK by JOSEPH BEAUMONT PROLOGUE. INTENDED FOR A DRAMATIC PIECE OF KING EDWARD THE FOURTH by WILLIAM BLAKE |