The Poet is the loneliest man that lives; Ah me! God makes him so -- The sea hath its ebb and flow, He sings his songs -- but yet he only gives In the waves of the words of his art Only the foam of his heart. Its sea rolls on forever, evermore, Beautiful, vast, and deep; Only his shallowest thoughts touch the shore Of Speech; his deepest sleep. The foam that crests the wave is pure and white; The foam is not the wave; The wave is not the sea -- it rolls forever on; The winding shores will crave A kiss from ev'ry wavelet on the deep; Some come; some always sleep. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A BIT OF SKY by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE CAMBODIAN BOX by KAREN SWENSON SUNSET: ST. LOUIS by SARA TEASDALE THE SCHOOL BOY, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE INSCRIPTION FOR A FOUNTAIN ON A HEATH by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE THE SEA AND THE SKYLARK by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS THE FIRE OF DRIFTWOOD; DEVEREUX FARM, NEAR MARBLEHEAD by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW |