WOE to the seed The winds carry O'er fallow and mead! They do not tarry, They seek the sea, The barren strand, Where foam-flakes flee O'er the salt land. Where the sharp spray And sand are blown, In the wind's play The seed is sown. Falling on shore It cries, "The earth Opens her door! There shall be birth "From thee far place, From thee fair hour, Splendour and grace Of leaf and flower." Falling on sea It cries, "Again Com'st thou to me, Refreshing rain— Only more great, More strong thou art, Like to my fate, Like to my heart." On barren shore, Or sullen wave, When storms are o'er It finds a grave. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FAREWELL TO LOVE by JOHN DONNE EPISTLE TO DR. ARBUTHNOT by ALEXANDER POPE RECOMPENSE by DOROTHY MOORE ALFORD FACING AN HOUR-GLASS by ELFRIDA DE RENNE BARROW ETHELWALD, FR. METRICAL HISTORY OF ST. CUTHBERT by BEDE PORTRAIT SONNETS: 1 by HENRY BELLAMANN |