One with the ruined sunset, The strange forsaken sands, What is it waits, and wanders, And signs with desperate hands? What is it calls in the twilight -- Calls as its chance were vain? The cry of a gull sent seaward Or the voice of an ancient pain? The red ghost of the sunset, It walks them as its own, These dreary and desolate reaches . . . But O, that it walked alone! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NICHOLAS NYE by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE THE SAND-MAN by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE BELLS OF SHANDON by FRANCIS SYLVESTER MAHONY SUMMER DAWN by WILLIAM MORRIS (1834-1896) THE ALLEY. AN IMITATION OF SPENSER by ALEXANDER POPE RESOLUTION AND INDEPENDENCE by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH WITH A COPY OF CALVERLEY by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS ROMEO AND JULIET by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH A HINT FROM THE BEGINNING OF THE THIRD SATIRE OF JUVENAL by PHILIP AYRES |