The moon-white waters wash and leap, The dark tide floods the Coves of Crail; Sound, sound he lies in dreamless sleep, Nor hears the sea-wind wail. The pale gold of his oozy locks, Doth hither drift and thither wave; His thin hands plash against the rocks, His white lips nothing crave. Afar away she laughs and sings -- A song he loved, a wild sea-strain -- Of how the mermen weave their rings Upon the reef-set main. Sound, sound he lies in dreamless sleep, Nor hears the sea-wind wail, Tho' with the tide his white hands creep Amid the Coves of Crail. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE GUARDIAN ANGEL (A PICTURE AT FANO) by ROBERT BROWNING THE HOUSE WITH NOBODY IN IT by ALFRED JOYCE KILMER THE CAPTAINS OF THE YEARS by ARTHUR RAYMOND MACDOUGALL JR. WILLIE WINKIE by WILLIAM MILLER MONNA INNOMINATA, A SONNET OF SONNETS: 13 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI THE SONG THAT SHALL ATONE by KATHARINE LEE BATES |