THE gray sea, and the long black land; And the yellow half-moon large and low; And the startling little waves, that leap In fiery ringlets from their sleep, As I gain the cove with pushing prow, And quench its speed in the slushy sand. Then a mile of warm, sea-scented beach; Three fields to cross, till a farm appears: A tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratch And blue spurt of a lighted match, And a voice less loud, through its joys and fears, Than the two hearts, beating each to each. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE INDIAN WEED by RALPH ERSKINE SHAMEFUL DEATH by WILLIAM MORRIS (1834-1896) THE SUN'S TRAVELS by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON THE PILGRIM by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD IN REGENT'S PARK by CHARLES WILLIAM BRODRIBB |