No matter what I say, All that I really love Is the rain that flattens on the bay, And the eel-grass in the cove; The jingle-shells that lie and bleach At the tide-line, and the trace Of higher tides along the beach: Nothing in this place. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BLACK RIDERS: 38 by STEPHEN CRANE ELEGY: 19. TO HIS MISTRESS GOING TO BED by JOHN DONNE LAMENT OF THE MASTER ERSKINE by ALEXANDER SCOTT (1520-1590) A WINTER PIECE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS by JOANNA BAILLIE HIS PRAYER TO PECUNIA by RICHARD BARNFIELD TO THE DECEASED AUTHOR, UPON THE PROMISCUOUS PRINTING OF HIS POEMS by THOMAS BROWNE |