Here, in this little Bay, Full of tumultuous life and great repose, Where, twice a day, The purposeless, glad ocean comes and goes, Under high cliffs, and far from the huge town, I sit me down. For want of me the world's course will not fail, When all its work is done, the lie shall rot; The truth is great, and shall prevail, When none cares whether it prevail or not. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A MENDOCINO MEMORY by EDWIN MARKHAM THE ARCHITECT AT THE EDGE OF THE SEA by KAREN SWENSON UPON A SPIDER CATCHING A FLY by EDWARD TAYLOR IMAGES: 5 by RICHARD ALDINGTON PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 62. AL-MUMIT by EDWIN ARNOLD EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 28. LOVE'S TRIUMPH OVER RICHES by PHILIP AYRES |