Palm Trees By The Sea

Love, let me thank you for this!

Now we have drifted apart,

Wandered away from the sea,–

For the fresh touch of your kiss,

For the young warmth of your heart,

For your youth given to me.

Thanks: for the curls of your hair,

Softer than silk to the hand,

For the clear gaze of your eyes.

For yourself: delicate, fair,

Seen as you lay on the sand,

Under the violet skies.

Thanks: for the words that you said,–

Secretly, tenderly sweet,

All through the tropical day,

Till, when the sunset was red,

I, who lay still at your feet,

Felt my life ebbing away,

Weary and worn with desire,

Only yourself could console.

Love let me thank you for this!

For that fierce fervour and fire

Burnt through my lips to my soul

From the white heat of your kiss!

You were the essence of Spring,

Wayward and bright as a flame:

Though we have drifted apart,

Still how the syllables sing

Mixed in your musical name,

Deep in the well of my heart!

Once in the lingering light,

Thrown from the west on the Sea,

Laid you your garments aside,

Slender and goldenly bright,

Glimmered your beauty, set free,

Bright as a pearl in the tide.

Once, ere the thrill of the dawn

Silvered the edge of the sea,

I, who lay watching you rest,–

Pale in the chill of the morn

Found you still dreaming of me

Stilled by love’s fancies possessed.

Fallen on sorrowful days,

Love, let me thank you for this,

You were so happy with me!

Wrapped in Youth’s roseate haze,

Wanting no more than my kiss

By the blue edge of the sea!

Ah, for those nights on the sand

Under the palms by the sea,

For the strange dream of those days

Spent in the passionate land,

For your youth given to me,

I am your debtor always!

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Poems in English 

• Robert Burns: A Poet’s Welcome To His Love-Begotten Daughter: The First Instance That Entitled Him To The Venerable Appellation Of Father by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Epistle To John Rankine: Enclosing Some Poems by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Reply To An Announcement By J. Rankine: On His Writing To The Poet, That A Girl In That Part Of The Country Was With A Child To Him. by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Ballad On The American War: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns Country: In The Character Of A Ruined Farmer: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: On My Ever Honoured Father: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: On My Own Friend And My Father’s Friend, Wm. Muir In Tarbolton Mill: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: On James Grieve, Laird Of Boghead, Tarbolton : by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Epitaph On Wm. Hood, Senr., In Tarbolton: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Remorse: Fragment by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Wha Is That At My Bower-Door: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Green Grow The Rashes: A Fragment by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: My Nanie, O: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Song Composed In August: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: The Rigs O’ Barley: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: I Dream’d I Lay: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Poor Mailie’s Elegy: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Death And Dying Words Of Poor Mailie, The Author’s Only Pet Yowe., The. An Unco Mournfu’ Tale: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: John Barleycorn: A Ballad : by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: My Father Was A Farmer: by Robert Burns

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