FOG in the harbour,—sky and waterway Lost in a phantom otherworld, where boom Of funnels and the sharp "Give room, give room!" Of bells and paddles speak the night's dismay. Their sheer, sky-shouldering cities swathed in grey, The crowded ferries probe their paths of gloom Along the wharves of home, the cliffs of doom, Like glowworms in a cobweb void astray. Hope in the homeward-toiling hearts, and fear But half-confessed; their pulses urge,—yet no, Some warning bell of reason tolls, "Not here Is trust in self enough; a higher guide Of mutual faith must rule you as you go; None is self-pilot on the harbour tide." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest... |