Frank Wilmot

(6 April 1881 - 22 February 1942 / Collingwood, Melbourne)

The Last Port - Poem by Frank Wilmot

I WROUGHT and battled and wept, near and afar
I scanned the secret of the bud and star.

Hill-road and desert, and the hurrying street
Know well the impress of my restless feet!

Then some one came with soft, caressing glance,
Slow, like a woman out of all romance.

Love closed around me these warm, folded wings—
That was the end of all my wanderings.

Comments about The Last Port by Frank Wilmot

There is no comment submitted by members..

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Read poems about / on: romance, star, woman, love, women

Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 1, 2004

[Hata Bildir]