THE gray sea, and the long black land; And the yellow half-moon large and low; And the startling little waves, that leap In fiery ringlets from their sleep, As I gain the cove with pushing prow, And quench its speed in the slushy sand. Then a mile of warm, sea-scented beach; Three fields to cross, till a farm appears: A tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratch And blue spurt of a lighted match, And a voice less loud, through its joys and fears, Than the two hearts, beating each to each. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SEVEN TWILIGHTS: 4 by CONRAD AIKEN SUSSEX DRINKING SONG by HILAIRE BELLOC YOUNG BLOOD by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET CONTRA MORTEM: THE TREES by HAYDEN CARRUTH MOUNTAIN FARM by MALCOLM COWLEY LET ME NOT LOSES MY DREAM by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO EMILIE BIGELOW HAPGOOD - PHILANTHROPIST by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON |