I love all things that cluster round the sea: Sand-dunes wave washed, and glad wild wings that beat Against the wind, the flash of children's feet, Rude huddled huts, driftwood, grass blowing free, Seines in the sun and spars of hickory, Great ships slow moving, and boats small and neat, Old mossy wrecks that once were sound and fleet, Half hidden by a pine or bayberry tree. But when the tired feet have homeward gone, And from the huts blue smoke curls towards the sky, And yellow lights gleam on the waters gray, There comes a peace as soothing as the dawn As one by one the little boats go by And drop their anchors in the quiet bay. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NOT TRANSHISTORICAL DEATH, OR AT LEAST NOT QUITE by HAYDEN CARRUTH ONE OF THE LEAST OF THESE, MY LITTLE ONE' by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON FINALITY by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON POSTHUMOUS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON AND SO, I THINK DIOGENES by AMY LOWELL DOMESDAY BOOK: DR. TRACE TO THE CORONER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |