Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, SONG OF THE WAVE, by ROBERT FROST


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

SONG OF THE WAVE, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Rolling, rolling, o'er the deep
Last Line: Then the wave's short life is o'er.
Subject(s): Waves



"Rolling, rolling, o'er the deep,
"Rolling, rolling, o'er the deep,
Sunken treasures neath me sleep
As I shoreward slowly sweep.
Onward peacefully I roll,
As I shoreward slowly sweep.
Ever thoughtless of the goal,

Onward peacefully I roll,
Sea-bells round me chime and toll.
Ever thoughtless of the goal,
There is peave above, below,
Far beneath me sea-weeds grow,
Sea-bells round me chime and toll.

Tiny fish glide to and fro,
Now in sunlight, now in shade,
There is peace above, below,
Lost within some ocean glade
Far beneath me sea-weeds grow,
Tiny fish glide to and fro,
By the restless waters made.
Pushing onward as before,

Now in sunlight, now in shade,
Now descry the distant shore,
Lost within some ocean glade
Hear the breakers sullen roar;
Quicken then my rolling pace,
By the restless waters made.

With glad heart I join the race
O'er the white-capp'd glittering space,
Pushing onward as before,
Now descry the distant shore,
Thinking naught of woe or grief,
Dancing, prancing, like a leaf,
Hear the breakers sullen roar;
Caring not for cliff or reef.

Lo! black cliffs above me loom,
Quicken then my rolling pace,
Casting o'er me awful gloom,
With glad heart I join the race
O'er the white-capp'd glittering space,
And foretell me coming doom.

O! that I might reach the land,
Thinking naught of woe or grief,
Reach and lave the sunny sand,
Dancing, prancing, like a leaf,
But these rocks on every hand--
Caring not for cliff or reef.
Seem my joyous course to stay,
Rise and bar my happy way,

Lo! black cliffs above me loom,
Shutting out the sun's bright ray.
I must now my proud crest lower
Casting o'er me awful gloom,
and the wild sea roam no more."
And fortell my coming doom.

Hark! the crash and mighty roar,
O! that I might reach the land,
Then the wave's sport life is o'e

Reach and lave the sunny sand,

But these rocks on every hand --

Seem my joyous course to stay,
Rise and bar my happy way,
Shutting out the sun's bright ray.

I must now my proud crest lower
And the wild sea roam no more."
Hark! the crash and mighty roar,
Then the wave's short life is o'er.





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