The moon-white waters wash and leap, The dark tide floods the Coves of Crail; Sound, sound he lies in dreamless sleep, Nor hears the sea-wind wail. The pale gold of his oozy locks, Doth hither drift and thither wave; His thin hands plash against the rocks, His white lips nothing crave. Afar away she laughs and sings -- A song he loved, a wild sea-strain -- Of how the mermen weave their rings Upon the reef-set main. Sound, sound he lies in dreamless sleep, Nor hears the sea-wind wail, Tho' with the tide his white hands creep Amid the Coves of Crail. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DADDY STRAIN by KAREN SWENSON I DID NOT ASK OF LIFE by ALICE BAKER TORRISMOND; AN UNFINISHED DRAMA by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES THOUGHTS ON IMPUTED RIGHTEOUSNESS by JOHN BYROM IDEALITY by DAVID HARTLEY COLERIDGE SWEET MEAT HAS SOUR SAUCE; OR, THE SLAVE-TRADER IN THE DUMPS by WILLIAM COWPER |