What moves at Cardiff, how a man At Newport ends the day as he began, At Weston what adventure may befall, What Bristol dreams, or if she dream at all, Upon the pier, with step sedate, I meditate -- Poor souls! whose God is Mammon -- Meanwhile, from Ocean's gate, Keen for the foaming spate, The true God rushes in the salmon. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BALLAD WHICH ANNE ASKEW MADE AND SANG WHEN SHE WAS IN NEWGATE by ANNE ASKEWE SONNET TO GEORGE SAND: 1. A RECOGNITION by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 27 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING A BOOK OF AIRS SONG 18 by THOMAS CAMPION A MIDSUMMER'S NOON IN THE AUSTRALIAN FOREST by CHARLES HARPUR DE RERUM NATURA: BOOK 3. AGAINST THE FEAR OF DEATH by TITUS LUCRETIUS CARUS |