I know my fathers braved the sea From some New England shore; With every storm that sweeps the plains My inland spirits soar. I like to strive against the wind That brings the dashing rain, And as it whips across my face I join its weird refrain. The thunder is the mad wave's boom; A flapping tree a sail; The lightning flash is some far port That signals in the gale. And O, the joy when northers come, To face the icy sleet, And feel the warm blood pounding back With every blow I meet. The sea—a storm—ancestral blood— Are calling me away, And that is why I cannot sit Indoors, a stormy day! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONTRA MORTEM: THE BEING by HAYDEN CARRUTH EVERYONE KNOWS WHOM THE SAVED ENVY by JAMES GALVIN JAWEH AND ALLAH BATTLE by ALLEN GINSBERG THE MAN WITH THE WOODEN LEG by KATHERINE MANSFIELD GEORGE MOORE by MARIANNE MOORE |