The physical world itself is a fair thing For who has eyes to see or ears to hear. To-day I fled on my new freedom's wind, With the first swallows of the parting year, Southwards from England. At the Folkestone pier I left the burden of my sins behind, Noting how gay the noon was, and how clear The tide's fresh laughter rising to no wind. A hundred souls of men there with my own Smiled in that sunshine. 'Tis a little measure Makes glad the heart at sea, and not alone Do wise men kindle to its pulse of pleasure Here all alike, peers, pedlars, squires, and dames Forswore their griefs fog-born of Father Thames. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LIGHT'OOD FIRE by JOHN HENRY BONER ALNWICK CASTLE by FITZ-GREENE HALLECK THE RUBAIYAT, 1879 EDITION: 15 by OMAR KHAYYAM TO ONE IN PARADISE by EDGAR ALLAN POE THE BAYADERE by FRANCIS SALTUS SALTUS MY BEAUTIFUL LADY by THOMAS WOOLNER TWELVE SONNETS: 5. GLAD SEASONS by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |