Related quotes: AND will you rest at...

Harbor

AND will you rest at last, storm-beaten spirit,
In this poor heart, who would your haven be,
Will you sink down at last, content to inherit
The common treaures of tranquillity?
Will you forget your high and fierce endeavor
The hinted island and the hidden seas,
Defeats, escapes, adventures, that forever
Left you more sad, and never more at ease?

When the west wind on summer evenings blowing
Brings to your ears the sound of sails that fill,
And moving ships eclipse your starlight, going
To lands unseen, and fates that beckon still;
When you shall see beneath the moon new risen,
The hissing wake of other vessels' foam,
Will not this land-locked harbor seem a prison
Where calms and shallows mock the name of home?

Ah, when your longing for the open ocean
Captures your heart, and bids you set your sail,
Feeble will be the bonds of my devotion;
Little will love - your own or mine - avail:
Happy to you will seem some ship-wrecked stranger,
Keener than love the zest of being free,
Sweeter than peace, the summoning of danger;
Some day at sunrise you will put to sea.

poem by Alice Duer Miller
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Peace Like A River

My peace is like a river
Winding slowly to the sea
My heart is deeper than the ocean
Filled with love He gave to me

Oh love that knows no ending
Rise up and set me free
I shall sail forever on this ocean
Forever, ever closer unto thee

Fill my sails oh precious Jesus
Wind of the Spirit propel me on
Over seas of tranquil beauty
To the horizon and beyond

I have sailed through stormy waters
When all my days had turned to night
I have sailed though windless days
Often tempted, tired, and no more fight

Sometimes the sun it seems to set
And we fight the rising tide
Of fear and darkness and regret
Yet thou art always by my side

So sail on my heart, to journey's end
Sail on into the night
And neither wind nor rain nor stormy seas
Shall diminish the morning light

poem by Frank McEleny
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My Ships

If all the ships I have at sea
Should come a-sailing home to me,
From sunny lands, and lands of cold,
Ah well! the harbor could not hold
So many sails as there would be
If all my ships came in from sea.

If half my ships came home from sea,
And brought their precious freight to me,
Ah, well! I should have wealth as great
As any king who sits in state,
So rich the treasures that would be
In half my ships now at sea.

If just one ship I have at sea
Should come a-sailing home to me,
Ah well! the storm clouds then might frown,
For if the others all went down
Still rich and proud and glad I’d be,
If that one ship came back to me.

If that one ship were down at sea,
And all the others came to me,
Weighed down with gems and wealth untold,
With glory, honor, riches, gold,
The poorest soul on earth I’d be
If that one ship came not to me.

O skies be calm! O winds blow free--
Blow all my ships safe home to me.
But if thou sendest some awrack
To never more come sailing back,
Send any--all that skim the sea--
But bring my love-ship home to me.

poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Sargasso Sea

I stand on the deck of my ship
stranded in uncharted seas
wondering where the west wind
will be carrying me.
Will it be to some treasure island,
but from the dark clouds forming
will it be to some distant doom,
or will be to the Sargasso Sea.
The sea of weed unmapped
where many good ships and men
from have failed to homeward sail.
The wind is bellowing my sails
as my wooden ship begins to creak.
Oh how I long for sight of land
and a way back home.
Each wave smacks again the hull
with a dragon’s roar.
My ship reels roughly in the waters
as lightning crackles above my head.
The sky is now as black as pitch
and the wind whips spray into my face.
The dark clouds of torment drive my ship and me.
Will be to a watery grave or still waters calm.
Only the ticking hours of time will reveal when it is right.
Now I must ride with the storm
and wherever it is taking me.
I can only pray to my lord for help
to deliver me from that dreaded Sargasso Sea.
I fear no foreign lands only a sea unknown to me.
The storm of torment bellows,
restlessly through day and night,
but I am not a sailor to give up without a fight.
I curse the wind to leave my ship and me alone.
It ignores my curses and carries me further on.
Even the moon and stars are afraid to show their light,
but I stand firm upon my deck
to see the sunlight in the morn.
I curse some more
as the west wind hammers at an open cabin door.
Slowly the lightening fades
and the dark clouds dissipate overhead.
The west wind runs out of breath
as the sun glitters on the waters
that wander over watery graves.
The sea becomes placid
no more raging foam,
a gentle breeze arises
so I can chart my way home.

27 July 2009

Author’s Note.

The Sargasso Sea is one of the great myths and legends of the sea. Ancient mariners used to talk about it entangling around ships so that they could not move and remained stranded there. Countless stories and poems have been written about it, each embellishing it more. I, myself written two poems about it, the first being Sea Of Dead Ships.

The truth is that Sargasso is Gulf Weed, is a brown seaweed that forms thick floating masses in the tropical Atlantic waters.

DVH

poem by David Harris
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Georgie Sails To-Morrow!

For sixteen years, a merry, laughing maiden,
I have warbl'd only songs of joy;
And in this heart, so very lightly laden,
Happy thoughts have ever found employ.
But times will change! and now there comes a sorrow,
Which bids me ev'ry joy resign:

My Georgie sails for China seas tomorrow,
And he knows not yet that he is mine--
My Georgie sails for China seas tomorrow,
And he knows not yet that he is mine--

How should he know? 'twas from a dream awaking,
When they told me he and I must part;
For not until the tie was nearly breaking,
Had I felt its tendrils on my heart.
These lips are seal'd--I cannot tell my sorrow,
And hope must die without a sign:

Oh, who can tell the fearful scenes of danger,
And the hardships Georgie dear must know!
On stormy seas, in foreign lands a stranger,
Oh, I cannot, cannot let him go!
My heart will break! where shall I patience borrow,
For months thro' which I can but pine?

The last farewell--that solemn word is spoken,
And my spirit trembles with its thrill;
His manly tones, by deep emotion broken,
In my inmost soul are ringing still.
But strange, wild joy is mingled with my sorrow,
And smiles among my tear-drops shine:

My Georgie sails for China seas to-morrow,
But he knows--he knows that he is mine.
My Georgie sails for China seas to-morrow,
But he knows--he knows that he is mine.

poem by Henry Clay Work
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The Glory of Ships

The glory of ships is an old, old song,
since the days when the sea-rovers ran
In their open boats through the roaring surf,
and the spread of the world began;
The glory of ships is a light on the sea,
and a star in the story of man.

When Homer sang of the galleys of Greece
that conquered the Trojan shore,
And Solomon lauded the barks of Tyre that
brought great wealth to his door,
'Twas little they knew, those ancient men,
what would come of the sail and the oar.

The Greek ships rescued the West from the East,
when they harried the Persians home;
And the Roman ships were the wings of strength
that bore up the empire, Rome;
And the ships of Spain found a wide new world,
far over the fields of foam.

Then the tribes of courage at last saw clear
that the ocean was not a bound,
But a broad highway, and a challenge to seek
for treasure as yet unfound;
So the fearless ships fared forth to the search,
in joy that the globe was round.

Their hulls were heightened, their sails spread out,
they grew with the growth of their quest;
They opened the secret doors of the East,
and the golden gates of the West;
And many a city of high renown
was proud of a ship on its crest.

The fleets of England and Holland and France
were at strife with each other and Spain;
And battle and storm sent a myriad ships
to sleep in the depths of the main;
But the seafaring spirit could never be drowned,
and it filled up the fleets again.

They greatened and grew, with the aid of steam,
to a wonderful, vast array,
That carries the thoughts and the traffic of men
into every harbor and bay;
And now in the world-wide work of the ships
'tis England that leads the way.

O well for the leading that follows the law
of a common right on the sea!
But ill for the leader who tries to hold
what belongs to mankind in fee!
The way of the ships is an open way,
and the ocean must ever be free!

Remember, O first of the maritime folk,
how the rise of your greatness began.
It will live if you safeguard the round-the-world road
from the shame of a selfish ban;
For the glory of ships is a light on the sea,
and a star in the story of man!

poem by Henry Van Dyke
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Ears in the Turrets Hear

Ears in the turrets hear
Hands grumble on the door,
Eyes in the gables see
The fingers at the locks.
Shall I unbolt or stay
Alone till the day I die
Unseen by stranger-eyes
In this white house?
Hands, hold you poison or grapes?

Beyond this island bound
By a thin sea of flesh
And a bone coast,
The land lies out of sound
And the hills out of mind.
No birds or flying fish
Disturbs this island’s rest.

Ears in this island hear
The wind pass like a fire,
Eyes in this island see
Ships anchor off the bay.
Shall I run to the ships
With the wind in my hair,
Or stay till the day I die
And welcome no sailor?
Ships, hold you poison or grapes?

Hands grumble on the door,
Ships anchor off the bay,
Rain beats the sand and slates.
Shall I let in the stranger,
Shall I welcome the sailor,
Or stay till the day I die?

Hands of the stranger and holds of the ships,
Hold you poison or grapes?

poem by Dylan Thomas
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The Ship That Never Returned

On a summer's day while the waves were rippling, with a quiet and a gentle breeze;
A ship set sail with a cargo laden for a port beyond the sea.