Tide be runnin' the great world over: 'Twas only last June month I mind that we Was thinkin' the toss and the call in the breast of the lover So everlastin' as the sea. Heer's the same little fishes that sputter and swim, Wi' the moon's old glim on the grey, wet sand; An' him no more to me nor me to him Than the wind goin' over my hand. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SHERIDAN AT CEDAR CREEK by HERMAN MELVILLE HE FELL AMONG THIEVES by HENRY JOHN NEWBOLT HUGH SELWYN MAUBERLEY: 13. ENVOI, 1919 by EZRA POUND THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 77. SOUL'S BEAUTY by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI |