OH, Maid of Isla, from the cliff That looks on troubled wave and sky, Dost thou not see yon little skiff Contend with ocean gallantly? Now beating 'gainst the breeze and surge, And steep'd her leeward deck in foam, Why does she war unequal urge? -- Oh, Isla's maid, she seeks her home. Oh, Isla's maid, yon sea-bird mark, Her white wing gleams through mist and spray, Against the storm-cloud, lowering dark, As to the rock she wheels away; -- Where clouds are dark and billows rave, Why to the shelter should she come Of cliff, exposed to wind and wave? -- Oh, maid of Isla, 'tis her home! As breeze and tide to yonder skiff, Thou'rt adverse to the suit I bring, And cold as is yon wintry cliff, Where sea-birds close their wearied wing. Yet cold as rock, unkind as wave, Still, Isla's maid, to thee I come; For in thy love, or in his grave, Must Allan Vourich find his home. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A VOICE FROM THE SWEAT-SHOPS (A HYMN WITH RESPONSES) by LOUIS UNTERMEYER ON THE EPHEMERALNESS OF BEAUTY by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS THE SOUTH-WEST WIND by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 3 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH ARMISTICE DAY by ZELMA DUNNING BOWEN BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS: BOOK 1. THE FIRST SONG by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) THINKING OF SAINTS AND OF PETRONIUS ARBITHE by MARY BUTTS (1890-1937) |