Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

WESTWARD by LIONEL PIGOT JOHNSON

Poet Analysis

First Line: WHITE LAND WITHIN THE WEST
White Land within the West ,

Upon the breast

Of some divine and windless sea:
White Land within the West,
One of thy musing ghosts make me,
Upon the breast
Glad and at rest.
Of some divine and windless sea:

One of thy musing ghosts make me,

Glad and at rest.
White leaves of poplar there

Move to an air,

Gracious, and musical, and kind:
White leaves of poplar there
Under those leaves, let me too find
Move to an air,
The cure of care.
Gracious, and musical, and kind:

Under those leaves, let me too find

The cure of care.
But chiefly for their sake,

Whom thou didst take;

Lost to me in thine heart, White Land!
But chiefly for their sake,
Soon bid me sleep, soon hand in hand
Whom thou didst take;
With them to wake.
Lost to me in thine heart, White Land!
-1894
Soon bid me sleep, soon hand in hand

With them to wake.





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