LORD, I have known all fruits of this thy world; Like Solomon king, I have been fain of all, War, women, and wine,but mine was spirit of Nantes. And now, O Lord, I'm old and fain for Thee. But, Lord, my soul's so grimed and weather-worn, So warped and wrung with all iniquities, Piracies, brawls, and cheated revenues, There's not a saint but would look twice at it. So, when my time comes, send no angels down With lutes, and harps, and foreign instruments, To pipe old Pieter's spirit up to heaven Past his tall namesake sturdy at his post. But let me lie awhile in these Thy seas. Let the soft Gulf Stream and the long South Drift, And the swift tides that rim the Labrador, Beat on my soul and wash it clean again. And when Thy waves have smoothed me of my sins, White as the sea-mew or the wind-spun foam, Clean as the clear-cut images of stars That swing between the swells,then, then, O Lord, Lean out, lean out from heaven and call me thus, "Come up, thou soul of Pieter Marinus," And I'll go home. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AMERICA THE BEAUTIFUL by KATHARINE LEE BATES THE CAPTAIN; AFTER READING HENLEY'S INVICTUS by DOROTHEA DAY EPIGRAM: HERO AND LEANDER by JOHN DONNE THE EAGLE OF THE BLUE by HERMAN MELVILLE UNTIL DEATH by ANNE CHARLOTTE LYNCH BOTTA THE PRIDE OF WESTMORELAND by GORDON BOTTOMLEY |