My soul is like the oar that momently Dies in a desperate stress beneath the wave, Then glitters out again and sweeps the sea: Each second I'm new-born from some new grave. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO MY FIRST LOVE, MY MOTHER by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI YEARS OF THE MODERN by WALT WHITMAN CHILDREN OF LIGHT by BERNARD BARTON STRANGER by HARRIET GRAY BLACKWELL ON A LETTER: 1 by MATHILDE BLIND CONTENTED MIND by JANE (HUGHES) BRERETON JOHN TOWNSEND TROWBRIDGE by ABBIE FARWELL BROWN |