On banks of @3Honolii@1, Where the waters reach the sea, You may hear the gentle dash In a lazy, foaming plash, Of the waves that greet the waters flowing free. And the stream whose water beats Over the blackened rocks repeats, Past the sharp and leafy turn Of the greenery and fern, Happy murmurs as the ocean tide it meets. On the margin of the shore Where the ferry crossed of yore, In a cottage mid the green Still the boatman may be seen, But the days of the old ferry are no more. As the boatman's work is done, And the stream its course has run, You will find them side by side On the borders of the tide, At the rising and the setting of the sun. When from labors I am free And is reached the open sea, When the winding way is past And the tide is gained at last, I would be as full of peace as @3Honolii@1. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MOTHER'S HOPE by SAMUEL LAMAN BLANCHARD THE BLUEBELL by EMILY JANE BRONTE PEACE; A STUDY by CHARLES STUART CALVERLEY OUR GOOD PRESIDENT by PHOEBE CARY THE PRETTY MILKMAID by MOTHER GOOSE THE HOLLY TREE by ROBERT SOUTHEY TWELVE ARTICLES by JONATHAN SWIFT ON THE EXTINCTION OF THE VENETIAN REPUBLIC by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH |