Soothed by the murmurs on the sea-beat shore, His dun-gray plumage floating to the gale, The Curlew blends his melancholy wail, With those hoarse sounds the rushing waters pour -- Like thee, congenial bird! my steps explore The bleak lone sea-breach, or the rocky dale, And shun the orange bower, the myrtle vale, Whose gay luxuriance suits my soul no more. I love the ocean's broad expanse, when dressed In limpid clearness, or when tempests blow; When the smooth currents on its placid breast Flow calm as my past moments used to flow; Or, when its troubled waves refuse to rest, And seem the symbol of my present woe. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THEY HAVEN'T HEARD THE WEST IS OVER by JAMES GALVIN LAUSANNE: IN GIBBON'S OLD GARDEN by THOMAS HARDY |