THE sea was hoary, hoary, Beating on rock and cave: The winds were white and weeping With foam dust of the wave. They thundered louder, louder, With storm-lips curled in scorn— And dost thou tremble before us, O fallen star of morn? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...YOUR HANDS by ANGELINA WELD GRIMKE THE WIDOW'S MITE by FREDERICK LOCKER-LAMPSON SONNET FOR A PICTURE by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE WHY DID YOU DEPART AT DUSK? by CLARISSA M. BAILEY THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 107. THE SUBLIME: 2 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT MASQUE AT THE MARRIAGE OF THE EARL OF SOMERSET: SONG (2) by THOMAS CAMPION |