SIRMIO, thou dearest dear of strands That Neptune strokes in lake and sea, With what high joy from stranger lands Doth thy old friend set foot on thee! Yea, barely seems it true to me That no Bithynia holds me now, But calmly and assuringly Around me stretchest homely Thou. Is there a scene more sweet than when Our clinging cares are undercast, And, worn by alien moils and men, The long untrodden sill repassed, We press the pined for couch at last, And find a full repayment there? Then hail, sweet Sirmio; thou that wast, And art, mine own unrivalled Fair! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HOME-THOUGHTS, FROM THE SEA by ROBERT BROWNING THE BUS by MABEL WARREN ARNOLD BEING RETIRED, COMPLAINS AGAINST THE COURT by PHILIP AYRES THE AVENUE by GEORGES BOUTELLEAU NIMROD: 1 by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH |