The ocean heaves around us still

With long and measured swell,

The autumn gales our canvas fill,

Our ship rides smooth and well.

The broad Atlantic’s bed of foam

Still breaks against our prow;

I shed no tears at quitting home,

Nor will I shed them now!

Against the bulwarks on the poop

I lean, and watch the sun

Behind the red horizon stoop —

His race is nearly run.

Those waves will never quench his light,

O’er which they seem to close,

To-morrow he will rise as bright

As he this morning rose.

How brightly gleams the orb of day

Across the trackless sea!

How lightly dance the waves that play

Like dolphins in our lee!

The restless waters seem to say,

In smothered tones to me,

How many thousand miles away

My native land must be!

Speak, Ocean! is my Home the same

Now all is new to me? —

The tropic sky’s resplendent flame,

The vast expanse of sea?

Does all around her, yet unchanged,

The well-known aspect wear?

Oh! can the leagues that I have ranged

Have made no difference there?

How vivid Recollection’s hand

Recalls the scene once more!

I see the same tall poplars stand

Beside the garden door;

I see the bird-cage hanging still;

And where my sister set

The flowers in the window-sill —

Can they be living yet?

Let woman’s nature cherish grief,

I rarely heave a sigh

Before emotion takes relief

In listless apathy;

While from my pipe the vapours curl

Towards the evening sky,

And ‘neath my feet the billows whirl

In dull monotony!

The sky still wears the crimson streak

Of Sol’s departing ray,

Some briny drops are on my cheek,

‘Tis but the salt sea spray!

Then let our barque the ocean roam,

Our keel the billows plough;

I shed no tears at quitting home,

Nor will I shed them now!

Poetry Monster – Home

A few random poems:

External links

Bat’s Poetry Page – more poetry by Fledermaus

Talking Writing Monster’s Page –

Batty Writing – the bat’s idle chatter, thoughts, ideas and observations, all original, all fresh

Poems in English 

• Robert Burns: Epitaph For James Smith: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Epitaph On John Dove, Innkeeper: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: To A Mouse, On Turning Her Up In Her Nest With The Plough: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Halloween: The following poem will, by many readers, be well enough understood; but for the sake of those who are unacquainted with the manners and traditions of the country where the scene is cast, notes are added to give some account of the principal charms and spells of that night, so big with prophecy to the peasantry in the west of Scotland. The passion of prying into futurity makes a striking part of the history of human nature in its rude state, in all ages and nations; and it may be some entertainment to a philosophic mind, if any such honour the author with a perusal, to see the remains of it among the more unenlightened in our own.-R.B. by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Farewell To Ballochmyle: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Young Peggy Blooms: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Second Epistle to Davie: A Brother Poet by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Masonic Song: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Lines On Meeting With Lord Daer: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Address To The Toothache: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Farewell Song To The Banks Of Ayr: “I composed this song as I conveyed my chest so far on my road to Greenock, where I was to embark in a few days for Jamaica. I meant it as my farewell dirge to my native land.”-R. B. by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: O Thou Dread Power: Lying at a reverend friend’s house one night, the author left the following verses in the room where he slept:- by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Epigram On Rough Roads: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Fragment Of Song: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: The Brigs Of Ayr: Inscribed to John Ballantine, Esq., Ayr. by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Reply To A Trimming Epistle Received From A Tailor: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Willie Chalmers: Mr. Chalmers, a gentleman in Ayrshire, a particular friend of mine, asked me to write a poetic epistle to a young lady, his Dulcinea. I had seen her, but was scarcely acquainted with her, and wrote as follows:- by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Nature’s Law – A Poem: Humbly inscribed to Gavin Hamilton, Esq. by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: The Calf: To the Rev. James Steven, on his text, Malachi, ch. iv. vers. 2. “And ye shall go forth, and grow up, as Calves of the stall.” by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Thomson’s Edward and Eleanora.: by Robert Burns

More external links (open in a new tab):

Russian Commerce Agency

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Doska or the Board – write anything

Search engines:

Yandex – the best search engine for searches in Russian (and the best overall image search engine, in any language, anywhere)

Qwant – the best search engine for searches in French, German as well as Romance and Germanic languages.

Ecosia – a search engine that supposedly… plants trees

Duckduckgo – the real alternative and a search engine that actually works. Without much censorship or partisan politics.

Yahoo– yes, it’s still around, amazingly, miraculously, incredibly, but now it seems to be powered by Bing.

 

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