MIND and soul a halting brook, Famished with long burning days, Meshed with many a bramble-hook Where befouled the foam-fleece stays; Nor must many days go by Till but one or two dark holes Cupping their gross liquor lie, Where hot eyes lamp in dizzy shoals. But hark! through time what impulse roars? What fire and ice prepare to fall? Come, though your torrents burst my shores To naked havock, hurl them all! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOMESDAY BOOK: BARRETT BAYS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS CLOTHES by JEAN STARR UNTERMEYER AT CASTERBRIDGE FAIR: 6. A WIFE WAITS by THOMAS HARDY HYMNS OF THE MARSHES: SUNRISE by SIDNEY LANIER A PENNY'S WORTH OF POESY by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS THE DOOMED MAN by JOSEPH ADDISON ALEXANDER |