He was straight and strong, and his eyes were blue As the summer meeting of sky and sea, And the ruddy cliffs had a colder hue Than flushed his cheek when he married me. We passed the porch where the swallows breed, We left the little brown church behind, And I leaned on his arm, though I had no need, Only to feel him so strong and kind. One thing I never can quite forget; It grips my throat when I try to pray -- The keen salt smell of a drying net That hung on the churchyard wall that day. He would have taken a long, long grave -- A long, long grave, for he stood so tall . . . Oh, God, the crash of a breaking wave, And the smell of the nets on the churchyard wall! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DEAF HOUSE AGENT by KATHERINE MANSFIELD ON A CERTAIN LADY AT COURT by ALEXANDER POPE HE WISHES FOR THE CLOTHS OF HEAVEN by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS FAREWELL TO CYNTHIA by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS THE LIFE-POWER by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON |