WHILE the hum and the hurry Of passing footfalls Beat in my ear like the restless surf Of a wind-blown sea, A soul came to me Out of the look on a face. Eyes like a lake Where a storm-wind roams Caught me from under The rim of a hat. I thought of a midsea wreck and bruised fingers clinging to a broken state-room door. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE NEGRO DANCERS by CLAUDE MCKAY AN EXPOSTULATION by ISAAC BICKERSTAFFE CALIBAN UPON SETEBOS; OR, NATURAL THEOLOGY IN THE ISLAND by ROBERT BROWNING FANCY IN NUBIBUS; OR, THE POET IN THE CLOUDS by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE HYMN TO SANTA RITA; THE PATRON SAINT OF THE IMPOSSIBLE by ALVEY AUGUSTUS ADEE INVITATION by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS |