The slow heave of the sleeping sea With pulse-like motion swells and falls, And drowsily a stray gull calls The very wail of melancholy; All day the moveless mist has slept On the same bosom east winds swept: No breath of change in the grey mist, Save just a dream of amethyst. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EPIGRAM: TO FOOL, OR KNAVE by BEN JONSON THE MUSIC STRAIN by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON ARMELLE NICHOLAS'S ACCOUNT OF HERSELF by JOHN BYROM THE CALIPH AND SATAN by JAMES FREEMAN CLARKE DESIGN OF WHITE LILACS by GRACE HAZARD CONKLING TWO SONGS AFTER HEARING THE WAGNER STORY-BOOK: 2 by HILDA CONKLING |