Desolate
Philip Bourke Marston
1850 to 1887
I strain my worn-out sight across the sea;
I hear the wan waves sobbing on the strand;
My eyes grow weary of the sea and land,
Of the wide deep, and the forsaken lea.
Ah, love, return! ah, love, come back to me! —
As well these ebbing waves I might command
To turn and kiss the moist, deserted sand!
The joy that was, is not, and cannot be.
The salt shore, furrowed by the foam, smells sweet;
Oh, blest for me, if it were now my lot,
To make this shore my rest, and hear all strife
Die out, like yon tide's faint receding beat:
If he forgot so easily in life,
I may in death forget that he forgot.
Philip Bourke Marston's Desolate
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- Deep analysis of the poem's rhythm, structure, and emotional essence
- Careful selection of musical styles that enhance the poem's unique voice
- Balancing traditional poetic expression with contemporary sound landscapes
- Multiple revisions to ensure the arrangement honors the poet's original vision
This creative journey takes time—each composition represents hours of dedicated work to create something that deepens our connection to Philip Bourke Marston's words in meaningful ways.
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