Saved! And he fondles the pebbly sand for which he fought with the furious sea; and the white foam still whips his hand. He looks around at the sullen land; it lies storm-wrapped as it always lay, stark hill, firm lea. Here nothing changes, from day to day. And he looks back toward the furious sea... | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 6 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING A DIRGE (1) by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS THE PILLAR OF FAME by ROBERT HERRICK MAHMOUD by JAMES HENRY LEIGH HUNT THE DRUM: THE NARRATIVE OF THE DEMON OF TEDWORTH by EDITH SITWELL |