No more I seek, the prize is found , I furl my sails, my voyage is o'er; The treacherous waves no longer sound But sing thy praise along the shore. I steal from all I hoped of old, To throw more beauty round thy way; The dross I part, and melt the gold, And stamp it with thy every-day. I did not dream to welcome thee; Like all I have thou camest unknown, An island in a misty sea, With stars, and flowers, and harvests strown. A well is in the desert sand With purest water cold and clear, Where overjoyed at rest I stand, And drink the sound I hoped to hear. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 35 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING SUMMER IN ENGLAND, 1914 by ALICE MEYNELL RECOLLECTION by ANNE REEVE ALDRICH A SWING SONG by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM FAREWELL TO SUMMER by GEORGE ARNOLD AD S. ANGELUM CUSTODEM by JOSEPH BEAUMONT PSALM 51 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE |