Hurry me Nymphs! O, hurry me Far above the grovelling sea, Which, with blind weakness and base roar Casting his white age on the shore, Wallows along that slimy floor; Which with his widespread webbed hands Seeking to climb the level lands But rejected still to rave Alive in his uncovered grave. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...INEVITABLY (2) by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON PROMISE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SQUIRE BOWLING GREEN by EDGAR LEE MASTERS HOMAGE TO SEXTUS PROPERTIUS: 10 by EZRA POUND THE CHARGE OF THE BREAD BRIGADE by EZRA POUND A GIRL'S THOUGHTS by ISAAC ROSENBERG |