"Meeting at Night"
The gray sea and the long black land;
And the yellow half-moon large and low;
And the startled little waves that leap
In fiery ringlets from their sleep,
As I gain the cove with pushing prow,
And quench its 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, through its joys and fears,
Than the two hearts beating each to each!
- Robert Browning
The gray sea and the long black land;
And the yellow half-moon large and low;
And the startled little waves that leap
In fiery ringlets from their sleep,
As I gain the cove with pushing prow,
And quench its 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, through its joys and fears,
Than the two hearts beating each to each!
- Robert Browning
I think I am finally beginning to truly appreciate poetry. We are in the poetry unit of our English class right now, and flying through these wonderful poems at an amazing (okay, maybe alarming!) rate. The figurative language and vivid imagery in this particular poem knocked my socks off. I LOVE IT.
Off to write a paraphrase of Robert Frost's "Design." Have a wonderful evening.