Some fell away to westward with the wind, And one full darkly figured on the sun At sunset; but the fight on Briton's beach Got us a shelter under Dover cliff, And all night long a voice made wild lament Circling the confines of the restless camp; So that we had sad thoughts of those at sea. There would no messenger come back from them! Each one alone went leaping down the world With no sail set, deserted on the deck, And in the hull a tremor of low speech. And overhead the petrel wafted wide. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONTRA MORTEM: THE ECSTASY by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE IMPOSSIBLE INDISPENSIBILITY OF THE ARS POETICA by HAYDEN CARRUTH AGAINST THE REST OF THE YEAR by JAMES GALVIN ANSWER TO PRAYER by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: HENRY PHIPPS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS QUI S'EXCUSE S'ACCUSE by MARIANNE MOORE |