Cape Cod
by George Santayana (1863-1952)
The low sandy beach and the thin scrub pine,
The wide reach of bay and the long sky line,—
O, I am sick for home!
The salt, salt smell of the thick sea air,
And the smooth round stones that the ebbtides wear,—
When will the good ship come?
The wretched stumps all charred and burned,
And the deep soft rut where the cartwheel turned,—
Why is the world so old?
The lapping wave, and the broad gray sky
Where the cawing crows and the slow gulls fly,
Where are the dead untold?
The thin, slant willows by the flooded bog,
The huge stranded hulk and the floating log,
Sorrow with life began!
And among the dark pines, and along the flat shore,
O the wind, and the wind, for evermore!
What will become of man?
One Trackback/Pingback
[…] Like to get a poem a day, but don’t do the pod thing yet? (BTW, stay tuned on that. I -did- attend PodCamp last weekend, and I’m excited about the chance to put some audio/video up here over the next few weeks. I’m just working out all the logistics now.) Drop by All Things Human, where Robert Huntington, an attorney, chess player and self-admitted former (bad) poet, posts a new poem every day. Just a very quick perusal of his latest entries turned up several of my all time favorites - poems that I’d tucked away and forgotten - Leigh Hunt’s Rondeau (better known as ‘Jenny Kissed Me), Santayana’s Cape Cod. He has a liking for the older British poets - Donne, Marvell, Thomas Hardy - and the poems are well-chosen. Drop by, leave a comment, enjoy. […]
Post a Comment