A horse-shoe nailed, for luck, upon a mast; That mast, wave-bleached, upon the shore was cast! I saw, and thence no fetich I revered, But safer through tempest, to my haven steered. The place with rose and myrtle was o'ergrown, Yet Fear and Sorrow held it for their own. A garden then I sowed without one fear,-- Sowed fennel, yet lived griefless all the year. Brave lines, long life, did my friend's hand display. Not so mine own; yet mine is quick to-day. Once more in his I read Fate's idle jest, Then fold it down forever on his breast. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNET by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS GEORGE MOSES HORTON, MYSELF by GEORGE MOSES HORTON THE NEGRO SPEAKS OF RIVERS by JAMES LANGSTON HUGHES RUNNING THE BATTERIES by HERMAN MELVILLE TWO SONGS FROM THE PERSIAN: 2 by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH |