Monday, September 7, 2009



The grey sea and the long black land;
And the yellow half moon large & low;
And the startled little waves that leap
In fiery ringlets from their sleep,
As I gain the cove with pushing prow,
And quench it's speed I' the slushy sand.


Then a mile of warm sea scented beach;
Three fields to cross till a farm appears;
A tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratch
And blue spurt of a lighted match,
And a voice less loud, thro' its joys and fears
Than the two hearts beating each to each!

- Robert Browning

No comments: