Swampscott over the eastern sea,
And the western wall of the sea is Lynn;
And stroke by stroke on the shingle
The waves come pounding in;
Bitter waves of the bitter sea,
With a music all their own,
With the awful charm of the Gorgon
In the look of them and the tone.
And every wave gave up its soul,
That passed in a gusty breath, –
A pulse in the air, that stirred my hair,
And whispered “Death.”
(Philip Henry Savage)
More Poetry from Philip Henry Savage:
Philip Henry Savage Poems based on Topics: Death & Dying, Soul, Hair, Music- Solitude (Philip Henry Savage Poems)
- Anadyomene (Philip Henry Savage Poems)
- The Hedgerow (Philip Henry Savage Poems)
- "I Left The City" (Philip Henry Savage Poems)
- Near The White Ledge, Sandwich, N. H. (Philip Henry Savage Poems)
- The Song-Sparrow (Philip Henry Savage Poems)
Readers Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: Death & Dying Poems, Soul Poems, Hair Poems, Music PoemsBased on Keywords: lynn