Explore Poems GO!

Thanks

Rating: 2.8

HER griefs were the hours
When my struggle was sore,--
Her joys were the powers
That the climber upbore.

Her home is the boundless
Free ocean that seems
To rock, calm and soundless,
My galleon of dreams.

Half hers are the glancing
Read More

READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
COMMENTS OF THE POEM