Shanties, silvering themselves along the beaches, Like heaps of old shells that the tide washes in, The coarse grasses and the sea-gull's screeches And the sound of the sea have scraped thin. Shanties are sure that they are shells when sunset-tinted, Or filmed by fog in an opalescent swirl -- And in moonlight, when every grain of sand is glinted, It's plain that they feel capable of pearl. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON BEING ASKED TO WRITE A POEM AGAINST THE WAR IN VIETNAM by HAYDEN CARRUTH HIGH PLAINS RAG by JAMES GALVIN MATERNITY by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON RECOMPENSE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON ADMETUS; TO MY FRIEND RALPH WALDO EMERSON by EMMA LAZARUS IF HE SHOULD COME by EDWIN MARKHAM |