Celia Thaxter

(29 June 1835 – 25 August 1894 / Portsmouth, New Hampshire)

Celia Thaxter Poems

1. The Pimpernel 3/21/2012
2. Regret 3/21/2012
3. Alone 3/21/2012
4. Imprisoned 3/21/2012
5. Seaward To____ 3/21/2012
6. May Morning 3/21/2012
7. Song 3/21/2012
8. Spring 3/21/2012
9. Dust 1/3/2003
10. Connoisseurs 1/3/2003
11. The Shag 1/3/2003
12. Karen 1/3/2003
13. The Spaniards' Graves 1/3/2003
14. Thora 1/3/2003
15. Lars 1/3/2003
16. Slumber Song 1/3/2003
17. Compensation 1/3/2003
18. Guests 1/3/2003
19. A Tryst 1/3/2003
20. Off Shore 1/3/2003
21. Land-Locked 1/3/2003
22. The Sandpiper 1/3/2003
Best Poem of Celia Thaxter

The Sandpiper

Across the lonely beach we flit,
One little sandpiper and I,
And fast I gather, but by bit,
The scattered drift-wood, bleached and dry.
The wild waves reach their hands for it,
The wild wind raves, the tide runs high,
As up and down the beach we flit,
One little sandpiper and I.

Above our heads the sullen clouds
Scud, black and swift, across the sky:
Like silent ghosts in misty shrouds
Stand out the white light-houses high.
Almost as far as eye can reach
I see the close-reefed vessels fly,
As fast we flit along the beach,
One ...

Read the full of The Sandpiper

A Tryst

From out the desolation of the North
An iceberg took it away,
From its detaining comrades breaking forth,
And traveling night and day.

At whose command? Who bade it sail the deep
With that resistless force?
Who made the dread appointment it must keep?
Who traced its awful course?

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