Login
|
Join PoetrySoup
Home
Submit Poems
Login
Sign Up
Member Home
My Poems
My Quotes
My Profile & Settings
My Inboxes
My Outboxes
Soup Mail
Contest Results/Status
Contests
Poems
Poets
Famous Poems
Famous Poets
Dictionary
Types of Poems
Quotes
Short Stories
Articles
Forum
Blogs
Poem of the Day
New Poems
Resources
Syllable Counter
Anthology
Grammar Check
Greeting Card Maker
Classifieds
Member Area
Member Home
My Profile and Settings
My Poems
My Quotes
My Short Stories
My Articles
My Comments Inboxes
My Comments Outboxes
Soup Mail
Poetry Contests
Contest Results/Status
Followers
Poems of Poets I Follow
Friend Builder
Soup Social
Poetry Forum
New/Upcoming Features
The Wall
Soup Facebook Page
Who is Online
Link to Us
Member Poems
Poems - Top 100 New
Poems - Top 100 All-Time
Poems - Best
Poems - by Topic
Poems - New (All)
Poems - New (PM)
Poems - New by Poet
Poems - Random
Poems - Read
Poems - Unread
Member Poets
Poets - Best New
Poets - New
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems Recent
Poets - Top 100 Community
Poets - Top 100 Contest
Famous Poems
Famous Poems - African American
Famous Poems - Best
Famous Poems - Classical
Famous Poems - English
Famous Poems - Haiku
Famous Poems - Love
Famous Poems - Short
Famous Poems - Top 100
Famous Poets
Famous Poets - Living
Famous Poets - Most Popular
Famous Poets - Top 100
Famous Poets - Best
Famous Poets - Women
Famous Poets - African American
Famous Poets - Beat
Famous Poets - Cinquain
Famous Poets - Classical
Famous Poets - English
Famous Poets - Haiku
Famous Poets - Hindi
Famous Poets - Jewish
Famous Poets - Love
Famous Poets - Metaphysical
Famous Poets - Modern
Famous Poets - Punjabi
Famous Poets - Romantic
Famous Poets - Spanish
Famous Poets - Suicidal
Famous Poets - Urdu
Famous Poets - War
Poetry Resources
Anagrams
Bible
Book Store
Character Counter
Cliché Finder
Poetry Clichés
Common Words
Copyright Information
Grammar
Grammar Checker
Homonym
Homophones
How to Write a Poem
Lyrics
Love Poem Generator
New Poetic Forms
Plagiarism Checker
Poetics
Poetry Art
Publishing
Random Word Generator
Spell Checker
Store
What is Good Poetry?
Word Counter
Email Poem
Your IP Address: 3.140.198.43
From Email:
Required
Email Address Not Valid.
To Email:
Email Address Not Valid.
Required
Subject
Required
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem
The heavenly bay, ringed round with cliffs and moors, Storm-stained ravines, and crags that lawns inlay, Soothes as with love the rocks whose guard secures The heavenly bay. O friend, shall time take ever this away, This blessing given of beauty that endures, This glory shown us, not to pass but stay? Though sight be changed for memory, love ensures What memory, changed by love to sight, would say - The word that seals for ever mine and yours The heavenly bay. II. My mother sea, my fostress, what new strand, What new delight of waters, may this be, The fairest found since time's first breezes fanned My mother sea? Once more I give me body and soul to thee, Who hast my soul for ever: cliff and sand Recede, and heart to heart once more are we. My heart springs first and plunges, ere my hand Strike out from shore: more close it brings to me, More near and dear than seems my fatherland, My mother sea. III. Across and along, as the bay's breadth opens, and o'er us Wild autumn exults in the wind, swift rapture and strong Impels us, and broader the wide waves brighten before us Across and along. The whole world's heart is uplifted, and knows not wrong; The whole world's life is a chant to the sea-tide's chorus; Are we not as waves of the water, as notes of the song? Like children unworn of the passions and toils that wore us, We breast for a season the breadth of the seas that throng, Rejoicing as they, to be borne as of old they bore us Across and along. IV. On Dante's track by some funereal spell Drawn down through desperate ways that lead not back We seem to move, bound forth past flood and fell On Dante's track. The grey path ends: the gaunt rocks gape: the black Deep hollow tortuous night, a soundless shell, Glares darkness: are the fires of old grown slack? Nay, then, what flames are these that leap and swell As 'twere to show, where earth's foundations crack, The secrets of the sepulchres of hell On Dante's track? V. By mere men's hands the flame was lit, we know, From heaps of dry waste whin and casual brands: Yet, knowing, we scarce believe it kindled so By mere men's hands. Above, around, high-vaulted hell expands, Steep, dense, a labyrinth walled and roofed with woe, Whose mysteries even itself not understands. The scorn in Farinata's eyes aglow Seems visible in this flame: there Geryon stands: No stage of earth's is here, set forth to show By mere men's hands. VI. Night, in utmost noon forlorn and strong, with heart athirst and fasting, Hungers here, barred up for ever, whence as one whom dreams affright Day recoils before the low-browed lintel threatening doom and casting Night. All the reefs and islands, all the lawns and highlands, clothed with light, Laugh for love's sake in their sleep outside: but here the night speaks, blasting Day with silent speech and scorn of all things known from depth to height. Lower than dive the thoughts of spirit-stricken fear in souls forecasting Hell, the deep void seems to yawn beyond fear's reach, and higher than sight Rise the walls and roofs that compass it about with everlasting Night. VII. The house accurst, with cursing sealed and signed, Heeds not what storms about it burn and burst: No fear more fearful than its own may find The house accurst. Barren as crime, anhungered and athirst, Blank miles of moor sweep inland, sere and blind, Where summer's best rebukes not winter's worst. The low bleak tower with nought save wastes behind Stares down the abyss whereon chance reared and nursed This type and likeness of the accurst man's mind, The house accurst. VIII. Beloved and blest, lit warm with love and fame, The house that had the light of the earth for guest Hears for his name's sake all men hail its name Beloved and blest. This eyrie was the homeless eagle's nest When storm laid waste his eyrie: hence he came Again, when storm smote sore his mother's breast. Bow down men bade us, or be clothed with blame And mocked for madness: worst, they sware, was best: But grief shone here, while joy was one with shame, Beloved and blest.
Type the characters you see in the picture
Required