break - Popular Poems and stories from category

Break, break, break,    On thy cold gray stones,
O Sea
And I would that my tongue could utter    The thoughts that arise in me
O, well for the fisherman's boy,    That he shouts with his sister at play

'Tis true, 'tis day; what though it be
O wilt thou therefore rise from me
Why should we rise, because 'tis light
Did we lie down, because 'twas night

The darkness crumbles
It is the same old druid Time as ever,
Only a live thing leaps my hand,
A queer sardonic rat,

I sat all morning in the college sick bay
Counting bells knelling classes to a close.
At two o'clock our neighbours drove me home.
In the porch I met my father crying—

Break, break, break,
On thy cold gray stones, O sea!
And I would that my tongue could utter
The thoughts that arise in me.