The tide comes in, a surge from the great sea,
And every little muddy creek and inlet
Now sweltering in the heat, will soon be filled
With the salt sweetness; even as sleep comes
After a term of toil to the tired brain,
A-surge from out the infinite, and fills
All of life's inlets with a dewy ease.
Sleep Compared To The Sea.
Robert Crawford
(1)
Poem topics: life, sea, sleep, great, brain, infinite, tired, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
Write your comment about Sleep Compared To The Sea. poem by Robert Crawford
Best Poems of Robert Crawford