My heart faints in me for the distant sea. The roar of London is the roar of ire The lion utters in his old desire For Libya out of dim captivity. The long bright silver of Cheapside I see, Her gilded weathercocks on roof and spire Exulting eastward in the western fire; All things recall one heart-sick memory: -- Ever the rustle of the advancing foam, The surges' desolate thunder, and the cry As of some lone babe in the whispering sky; Ever I peer into the restless gloom To where a ship clad dim and loftily Looms steadfast in the wonder of her home. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE TEARS OF THE POPLARS by EDITH MATILDA THOMAS FESSEDEN'S GARDEN by ELIZABETH AKERS ALLEN FRONT LINE by WILLIAM ROSE BENET THE DEATH OF A FRIEND by LEVI BISHOP A BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 33 by THOMAS CAMPION |