I was so lonely on the dunes to-day; The shadow of a bird passed o'er the sand, And I, a driftwood relic in my hand . . . Sea winds are not more lonely when they stray A little fitful and bewildered way In this wan acre, whose dry billows stand So pitilessly still of curve, so bland, And wide, and waiting, infinitely grey. In hollows I could almost hear them say, The misty breezes -- Run, we will not stay In this unreal and spiritual land! Our soul of life is calling from the strand, Whose blue and breathing bosom leapt, or lay, Or laughed to us in shots of silver spray! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO A LADY WHO HAD OFFERED HIM A WREATH OF LAUREL by GEORGE SANTAYANA THE EXPOSED NEST by ROBERT FROST A SERMON AT CLEVEDON; GOOD FRIDAY by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN ONLY ONE MOTHER by GEORGE COOPER DEWEY IN MANILA BAY [MAY 1, 1898] by RICHARD VORHEES RISLEY THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 83. BARREN SPRING by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI |