WHERE lies the Land to which yon Ship must go? Fresh as a lark mounting at break of day, Festively she puts forth in trim array; Is she for tropic suns, or polar snow? What boots the inquiry? -- Neither friend nor foe She cares for; let her travel where she may, She finds familiar names, a beaten way Ever before her, and a wind to blow. Yet still I ask, what haven is her mark? And, almost as it was when ships were rare, (From time to time, like Pilgrims, here and there Crossing the waters) doubt, and something dark, Of the old Sea some reverential fear, Is with me at thy farewell, joyous Bark! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TOM O'ROUGHLEY by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 31 by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 10. THE PORTRAIT by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI SYSTEM by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON THE 'STAY AT HOME'S' PLAINT, 1878 by GEORGE AUGUSTUS BAKER JR. NOVEMB. 5. 1644 by JOSEPH BEAUMONT A DRAMA OF EXILE by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING SPRING FANTASIES: 6. AS FLUTES OF ARCADY by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON REMARKS ON DR. BROWN'S 'ESTIMATE OF THE MANNERS OF THE TIMES' by JOHN BYROM |