SHALL I rebuke thee, Ocean, my old love, That once, in rage, with the wild winds at strife, Thou darest menace my unit of a life, Sending my clay below, my soul above, Whilst roar'd thy waves, like lions when they rove By night, and bound upon their prey by stealth? Yet didst thou ne'er restore my fainting health? -- Didst thou ne'er murmur gently like the dove? Nay, dost thou not against my own dear shore Full break, last link between my land and me? -- My absent friends talk in thy very roar, In thy waves' beat their kindly pulse I see, And, if I must not see my England more, Next to her soil, my grave be found in thee! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PICKET-GUARD [NOVEMBER, 1861] by ETHEL LYNN BEERS THE DEATH OF THE FLOWERS by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT ON MY JOYFUL DEPARTURE FROM THE CITY OF COLOGNE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE BEYOND THE POTOMAC by PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 28. THE WELSH MARCHES by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN THE FIRST SNOWFALL by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL HUGH SELWYN MAUBERLEY: 9. MR. NIXON by EZRA POUND |