 | Poems by Frederick Goddard Tuckerman |  |
212
[XIV. The breeze is sharp, the sky is hard and blue]
The breeze is sharp, the sky is hard and blue,—Blue with white tails of cloud. On such a day,
Upon a neck of sand o'erblown with spray,
We stood in silence the great sea to view;
And marked the bathers at their shuddering play
Run in and out with the succeeding wave,
While from our footsteps broke the trembling turf.
Again I hear the drenching of the wave;
The rocks rise dim, with wall and weedy cave;
Her voice is in mine ears, her answer yet:
Again I see, above the froth and fret,
The blue-loft standing like eternity!
And white feet flying from the surging surf
And simmering suds of the sea!
| Poems by Frederick Goddard Tuckerman | |