I STOOD by the unvintageable sea Till the wet waves drenched face and hair with spray, The long red fires of the dying day Burned in the west; the wind piped drearily; And to the land the clamorous gulls did flee: "Alas!" I cried, "my life is full of pain, And who can garner fruit or golden grain, From these waste fields which travail ceaselessly!" My nets gaped wide with many a break and flaw Nathless I threw them as my final cast Into the sea, and waited for the end. When lo! a sudden glory! and I saw The argent splendour of white limbs ascend, And in that joy forgot my tortured past. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...INDIAN SUMMER by SARA TEASDALE DEATH STANDS ABOVE ME by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR THE MISTLETOE BOUGH by THOMAS HAYNES BAYLY QUATORZAINS: 7. ANOTHER FANTASTIC SIMILE by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES THE SURVIVAL by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN NATALIA'S RESURRECTION: 29 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |