STAY not your course, nor, shipman, drop your sail Because of me: see you, my harbour's dry; I am a tomb: some gladder place may hail The thud of rowlocks as your bark draws nigh: Poseidon and the guesting gods decree it. So fare ye well, by land or water be it! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONTRA MORTEM: THE ECSTASY by HAYDEN CARRUTH CONTRA MORTEM: THE SUMMER by HAYDEN CARRUTH ARMAGEDDON by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON ESTRANGEMENT by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON YOUR WORLD by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON |