Like froward seas break their bounds and ingest the city…

Like froward seas break their bounds and ingest the city,

Or mulish dobbins their corral, and ride their riders,

Breaks my love from my heart, flouting its bars,

And forward thence doth rage to consume me!

Am artsmith I, little mortals make rivet me

But I’m to welkin drawn, vale, mead, mount, sea:

For am I part of these, these much of me –

Thus you – partly these, partly me – claim whole of me.

O in thee bind’st right to this annexation;

Wherefore without thy circuit forfeit I all motion!


Like to mariners holding course for unplumb’d shores,

Sail’d I ontoward the wild heart of yours;

Knowing none what I find there, nor what take thence:

Yet rode gladly the umpteen storms which blew their vehemence!

Now within volumes of berthing off thy coast

And my capture, set I down in my annals

Your wise usage of me, and all my trials;

How thou, lord of my country, dost thy subjects host:

So passing fair art thou, thy prisoners sing well of thee,

And little think on their captivity!


As days to months compound, months years, years to the grave;

I a mausoleum to you build, more-during than high gods crave!


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By Sydney Chesterfield on May 14, 2016 · Posted in Braindrops On Yellow Leaves, Literary, Poetry, Trends

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