To the Master of the Meteor


Lonesome on earth's loneliest deep,
Sailor! who dost thy vigil keep--
Off the Cape of Storms dost musing sweep
Over monstrous waves that curl and comb;
Of thee we think when here from brink
We blow the mead in bubbling foam.

Of thee we think, in a ring we link;
To the shearer of ocean's fleece we drink,
And the Meteor rolling home.



Attention Bookworms:

Buying from Amazon.com? Check out the Amazon Coupons first so you get the best deal.

Shakespeare wrote over 150 sonnets!
Join our Sonnet-A-Day Newsletter and read them all, one at a time.
Email:
As Seen In: USA Today "Hot Sites"