The Drop, that wrestles in the Sea - Forgets her own locality - As I - toward Thee - She knows herself an incense small - Yet small - she sighs - if All - is All - How larger - be? The Ocean - smiles - at her Conceit - But she, forgetting Amphitrite - Pleads - "Me"? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OCTAVES: 21 by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON THE COTTER'S SATURDAY NIGHT by ROBERT BURNS THE FLOWERS OF THE FOREST by ALISON RUTHERFORD THE DEATH-BED by SIEGFRIED SASSOON NOREMBEGA by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER WE HAVE DREAMED TOO MUCH OF GOLD by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE SONG, FR. A VISION OF GIOGIONE: GEMMA'S SONG ON THE WATER by GORDON BOTTOMLEY |