SIRMIO, thou dearest dear of strands That Neptune strokes in lake and sea, With what high joy from stranger lands Doth thy old friend set foot on thee! Yea, barely seems it true to me That no Bithynia holds me now, But calmly and assuringly Around me stretchest homely Thou. Is there a scene more sweet than when Our clinging cares are undercast, And, worn by alien moils and men, The long untrodden sill repassed, We press the pined for couch at last, And find a full repayment there? Then hail, sweet Sirmio; thou that wast, And art, mine own unrivalled Fair! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CEMETERY BY THE SEA by PAUL VALERY FLOWER-GATHERING by ROBERT FROST THE EARL O' QUARTERDECK by GEORGE MACDONALD ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 72 by PHILIP SIDNEY ODES: BOOK 1: ODE 15. TO THE EVENING STAR by MARK AKENSIDE |