ONLY the sea intoning, Only the wainscot-mouse, Only the wild wind moaning Over the lonely house. Darkest of all Decembers Ever my life has known, Sitting here by the embers, Stunned and helpless, alone -- Dreaming of two graves lying Out in the damp and chill: One where the buzzard, flying, Pauses at Malvern Hill; The other -- alas! the pillows Of that uneasy bed Rise and fall with the billows Over our sailor's head. Theirs the heroic story -- Died, by frigate and town! Theirs the Calm and the Glory, Theirs the Cross and the Crown. Mine to linger and languish Here by the wintry sea. Ah, faint heart! in thy anguish, What is there left to thee? Only the sea intoning, Only the wainscot-mouse, Only the wild wind moaning Over the lonely house. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO HIS WATCH, WHEN HE COULD NOT SLEEP by EDWARD HERBERT ON PLAYWRIGHT (1) by BEN JONSON HYMNS OF THE MARSHES: MARSH SONG - AT SUNSET by SIDNEY LANIER PARADISE LOST: BOOK 1 by JOHN MILTON LOVE LIES BLEEDING by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI FOUND' (FOR A PICTURE) by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI |