 | Joaquin Miller's Poems |  |
XLIII
Far tossed upon the broadest sea,
I lifted my two hands on high,
With wild soul plashing to the sky,
And cried, “O more than crowns to me,
Farewell at last to love and thee!”
I lifted my two hands on high,
With wild soul plashing to the sky,
And cried, “O more than crowns to me,
Farewell at last to love and thee!”
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I walked the deck, I kissed my hand
Back to the far and fading shore,
And bent a knee as to implore,
Until the last dark head of land
Slid down behind the dimpled sea.
At last I sank in troubled sleep,
A very child, rocked by the deep,
Sad questioning the fate of her
Before the cruel conqueror.
Back to the far and fading shore,
And bent a knee as to implore,
Until the last dark head of land
Slid down behind the dimpled sea.
At last I sank in troubled sleep,
A very child, rocked by the deep,
Sad questioning the fate of her
Before the cruel conqueror.
| Joaquin Miller's Poems | |