Classic and Contemporary Poetry
BY THE SEA, by LEWIS MORRIS (1833-1907) Poet's Biography First Line: A little country churchyard Last Line: For aught but the needs of the day. Subject(s): Sea; Ocean | ||||||||
A LITTLE country churchyard, On the verge of a cliff by the sea; Ah! the thoughts of the long years past and gone That the vision brings back to me For two ways led from the village, -- One, by the rippled sands, With their pink shells fresh from the ebbing wave For childish little hands. And one by the breezy cliff-side, All splendid with purple and gold, With its terrible humble-bees trumpeting deep, And butterflies fair to behold. And the boom of the waves on the shingle, And hymn of the lark to the sun; Made Sabbath sounds of their own, ere the chime Of the church-going bell had begun. I remember the churchyard studded With peasants who loitered and read The sad little legends, half effaced, On the moss-grown tombs of the dead. And the gay graves of little children, Fashioned like tiny cots; With their rosemary and southernwood, And blue-eyed forget-me-nots. Till the bell by degrees grew impatient, Then ceased as the parsonage door Opened wide for the surpliced vicar, And we loitered and talked no more. I remember the cool, dim chancel, The drowsy hum of the prayers: And the rude psalms vollied from seafaring throats As if to take heaven unawares. Till, when sermon-time came, by permission We stole out among the graves, And saw the great ocean a-blaze in the sun, And heard the deep roar of the waves. And clung very close together, As we spelt out with pitying tears, How a boy lay beneath who was drowned long ago, And was "Aged eleven years." And heard, with a new-born wonder, The voice of the infinite Sea, Whose hither-shore is the shore of Death, And whose further, the Life to be. "Did the sea swallow up little children? Could God see the wickedness done? Nor spare one swift-winged seraph to save From the thousands around His throne?" "Was he still scarce older than we were, Still only a boy of eleven? Were child-angels children always In the sorrowless courts of heaven?" Ah me! of those childish dreamers, One has solved the last riddle since then: And knows the dread secret which none may know Who walk in the ways of men. The other has seen the splendour And mystery fading away; Too wise or too dull to take thought or care For aught but the needs of the day. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HALL OF OCEAN LIFE by JOHN HOLLANDER JULY FOURTH BY THE OCEAN by ROBINSON JEFFERS BOATS IN A FOG by ROBINSON JEFFERS CONTINENT'S END by ROBINSON JEFFERS THE FIGUREHEAD by LEONIE ADAMS A CAROL by LEWIS MORRIS (1833-1907) |
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