A brook from a headland was falling In drops to the terrible sea, When Ocean, the grave of the sailor, Cried: "Weeper! What woulds't thou with me? My life is all tempest and terror, No limit I own but the sky, Thou weakling! My power is stupendous, What need of thy service have I?" The Brook said: "O, turbulent Ocean! I noiselessly steal to thy brink, And bear thee, salt Sea, what thou lackest, drop of fresh water to drink." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A FANCY FROM FONTENELLE by HENRY AUSTIN DOBSON THE VANISHING RED by ROBERT FROST HER DILEMMA; IN CHURCH by THOMAS HARDY THE GILLYFLOWER OF GOLD by WILLIAM MORRIS (1834-1896) ON A FLY DRINKING FROM HIS CUP by WILLIAM OLDYS LOVE AND LIFE. A SONG by JOHN WILMOT A BALLADE OF LAWN TENNIS by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS THE LAY OF SAINT MEDARD; A LEGEND OF AFRIC by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM |