NOW the sun tips with fire every wave's tossing crest; The gulls are blown seaward, the wind's in the west; And the wide-rolling deep and the kelp-laden shore See cloud and fog fleeing to gray Labrador. The ships, all a-thrill with the joy of the breeze, Sail portward as light as the foam on the seas; Not a film in the sky — not a mote in the air — The blue seems the bright wall of heaven laid bare — And the gloom of the night and its ghostly cry scorning, We are glad in the azure and splendor of morning! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HIC VIR, HIC EST' by CHARLES STUART CALVERLEY WORK WITHOUT HOPE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 3. BEAUTY UNLOOKED FOR by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) SS. SIMON & JUDE by JOSEPH BEAUMONT TO ONE WHO HAD LEFT HER CONVENT TO MARRY by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |