Treasure Island

Herman Melville

(1 August 1819 – 28 September 1891 / New York City, New York)

To The Master Of The _Meteor_


Lonesome on earth's loneliest deep,
Sailor! who dost thy vigil keep--
Off the Cape of Storms dost musing sweep
Over monstrous waves that curl and comb;
Of thee we think when here from brink
We blow the mead in bubbling foam.

Of thee we think, in a ring we link;
To the shearer of ocean's fleece we drink,
And the _Meteor_ rolling home.

Submitted: Monday, April 19, 2010

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

What do you think this poem is about?



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?

improve

Comments about this poem (To The Master Of The _Meteor_ by Herman Melville )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..
[Hata Bildir]