SMALL yellow stones That, lifted, through my idle fingers fall Leaving a score And these I toss between the parted lips Of the lapping sea, And the sea tosses again with millions more Yellow and white stones; Then drawing back her snaky long waves all, Leaves the stones Yellow and white upon the sandy shore. ... As they were bones Yellow and white left on the silent shore Of an unfoaming far unvisioned Sea. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NORTH WINTER by HAYDEN CARRUTH LEAVES OF A MAGAZINE by MARIANNE MOORE THE OLD VICARAGE, GRANTCHESTER by RUPERT BROOKE MY HEART'S IN THE HIGHLANDS by ROBERT BURNS THE THINKER'S VISION by WILLIAM ROSE BENET THE WORLD'S DESIRE by WILLIAM ROSE BENET |