Poets have talked too much about the sea. Let who would speak of water tell of ways A river follows, be concerned with haze Of a dark lake where soon the dawn will be. Let them, for beauty's aching sake, beware, Who stand upon the sands in rich amaze, Of shaping with the mouth a worded phrase, Lest their thin breath should stain intrinsic air. If they must cry the sea, the sea, what of The silence that is beauty's very heart? What magic will the word hold for tomorrow? They will have sons who might have known the smart Of sea song in their blood like joy, like sorrow, And breathed the better for the secret love. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GONE by MARY ELIZABETH COLERIDGE MY LADY'S TEARS by JOHN DOWLAND THREE GRAINS OF CORN; THE IRISH FAMINE by AMELIA BLANDFORD EDWARDS THE WILLIAM P. FRYE [FEBRUARY 28, 1915] by JEANNE ROBERT FOSTER ALFRED THE HARPER by JOHN STERLING (1806-1844) THE SAILOR BOY by ALFRED TENNYSON |