OH what comes over the sea, Shoals and quicksands past; And what comes home to me, Sailing slow, sailing fast? A wind comes over the sea With a moan in its blast; But nothing comes home to me, Sailing slow, sailing fast. Let me be, let me be, For my lot is cast: Land or sea all's one to me, And sail it slow or fast. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TROY PARK: 5. THE CAT by EDITH SITWELL LONG JOHN BROWN AND LITTLE MARY BELL by WILLIAM BLAKE MORTAL COMBAT by MARY ELIZABETH COLERIDGE UPON THE CIRCUMCISION by JOHN MILTON THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 11. THE LOVE-LETTER by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI |