Poems by Roberts Theodore Goodridge
The Blind Sailor
... in the market-place, the oxen in the streets,The bitter, black tobacco and the women selling sweets ...
In the Hand of the Wind
... eath of clay,Blows cold across the vineyards in the sun And stills the flutter of the leaves at play ...
Mortality
... nd the Awful Name,My care is all for mortal human kindness, My jealousy for this brief minute's fame ...
The Sandbar
... gs flashed like silver Against the cobalt sky:Here the whitecaps ride When the wind blows up at dawn ...
The Wreckers' Prayer
... iful Fadder, O Ancient of Days,Master of fog an' tide an' reef!Heave us a wrack to beguile our grief ...
