OH what comes over the sea, Shoals and quicksands past; And what comes home to me, Sailing slow, sailing fast? A wind comes over the sea With a moan in its blast; But nothing comes home to me, Sailing slow, sailing fast. Let me be, let me be, For my lot is cast: Land or sea all's one to me, And sail it slow or fast. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...JOY (2) by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON PROVING by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SCURVY ENTERTAINMENT by ABU ABD ALLAH THE ROMANCE OF THE LILY by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES THE CHARM by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE TWO FOUNTS; ADDRESSED TO A LADY ON HER RECOVERY ... FROM PAIN by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE |