I sowed the field of Love with many seeds, With many sails I sailed before the blast, And all my crop is only bitter weeds; My sails are torn, the winds have split the mast. All of the winds have torn my sails and shattered, All of the winds have blown my seed and scattered, All of the storms have burst on my endeavour, -- So let me sleep at last and sleep for ever. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE OLD MEN by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS THOUGHTS OF PHENA AT NEWS OF HER DEATH by THOMAS HARDY THE MERRY SUMMER MONTHS by WILLIAM MOTHERWELL ANTONIO by LAURA ELIZABETH HOWE RICHARDS AGAINST QUARRELLING AND FIGHTING by ISAAC WATTS |