NO voice of crickets wearing through the night From skeins of dew in scented summer fields; No sleep-time chirp of birds, no tree that yields A solemn sigh when touched by breezes light. Instead, a throb of engines in their might, The scurrying seamen with their weird @3Yo-ho!@1 The creak of ropes, the lapping of sad waves, That seem to grieve above forgotten graves, And gossip on lost ships of long ago. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NURSING HOME: THE CANARY by KAREN SWENSON THALATTA! THALATTA!; CRY OF THE TEN THOUSAND by JOSEPH BROWNLEE BROWN IN HOSPITAL: 10. STAFF NURSE: NEW STYLE by WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY SOUL AND BODY by LASCELLES ABERCROMBIE THE WANDERING JEW by PIERRE JEAN DE BERANGER |