THE vessel that rests here at last Had once stout ribs and topping mast, And, whate'er wind there might prevail, Was ready for a row or sail. It now lies idle on its side, Forgetful o'er the stream to glide. And yet there have been days of yore, When pretty maids their posies bore To crown its prow, its deck to trim, And freighted a whole world of whim. A thousand stories it could tell, But it loves secrecy too well. Come closer, my sweet girl, pray do! There may be still one left for you. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HUMPTY DUMPTY RECITATION [OR, SONG] by CHARLES LUTWIDGE DODGSON RESURRECTION, IMPERFECT by JOHN DONNE A DREAM, AFTER READING DANTE'S EPISODE OF PAULO & FRANCESCA by JOHN KEATS NORTH-WEST PASSAGE: 2. SHADOW MARCH by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON INTAGLIOS by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH SONNET: CLEAVE THOU THE WAVES by MATHILDE BLIND TEMPER by CLARA EXLINE BOCKOVEN ON MR. CRUIKSHANK OF THE HIGH SCHOOL, EDINBURGH by ROBERT BURNS |