This is the land the sunset washes, These are the banks of the Yellow Sea; Where it rose, or whither it rushes, These are the western mystery! Night after night her purple traffic Strews the landing with opal bales; Merchantmen poise upon horizons, Dip, and vanish with fairy sails. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...RESIGNATION by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW PICTURES FROM APPLEDORE: 3 by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL HYMN OF THE WEST by EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN A CAUTION TO POETS by MATTHEW ARNOLD SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 4. THE OLD VALLEY by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |