THE sea is flecked with bars of grey The dull dead wind is out of tune, And like a withered leaf the moon Is blown across the stormy bay. Etched clear upon the pallid sand The black boat lies: a sailor boy Clambers aboard in careless joy With laughing face and gleaming hand. And overhead the curlews cry, Where through the dusky upland grass The young brown-throated reapers pass, Like silhouettes against the sky. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AN ODE UPON A QUESTION WHETHER LOVE SHOULD CONTINUE FOREVER by EDWARD HERBERT THE RAINY SUMMER by ALICE MEYNELL THE NINE LITTLE GOBLINS by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY THE FLIGHT OF YOUTH by RICHARD HENRY STODDARD CLOUDY JUNE by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |