Lonesome on earth's loneliest deep, Sailor! who dost thy vigil keep -- Off the Cape of Storms dost musing sweep Over monstrous waves that curl and comb; Of thee we think when here from brink We blow the mead in bubbling foam. Of thee we think, in a ring we link; To the shearer of ocean's fleece we drink, And the Meteor rolling home. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPANIARDS' GRAVES AT THE ISLES OF SHOALS by CELIA LEIGHTON THAXTER A SPIRITUAL AND WELL-ORDERED MIND by HENRY ALFORD VILLANELLE: AU RETOUR DU PRINTEMPS by PHILIP SCHUYLER ALLEN DISCOURAGING by DANIEL CHAUNCEY BREWER |