The Broken Oar


    Once upon Iceland's solitary strand
        A poet wandered with his book and pen,
        Seeking some final word, some sweet Amen,
        Wherewith to close the volume in his hand.
    The billows rolled and plunged upon the sand,
        The circling sea-gulls swept beyond his ken,
        And from the parting cloud-rack now and then
        Flashed the red sunset over sea and land.
    Then by the billows at his feet was tossed
        A broken oar; and carved thereon he read,
        "Oft was I weary, when I toiled at thee";
    And like a man, who findeth what was lost,
        He wrote the words, then lifted up his head,
        And flung his useless pen into the sea.


facebook share button twitter share button google plus share button tumblr share button reddit share button email share button share on pinterest pinterest

Create a library and add your favorite stories. Get started by clicking the "Add" button.
Add The Broken Oar to your own personal library.

Return to the Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Home Page, or . . . Read the next poem; The Brook And The Wave

Anton Chekhov
Nathaniel Hawthorne
Susan Glaspell
Mark Twain
Edgar Allan Poe
Mary E. Wilkins Freeman
Herman Melville
Stephen Leacock
Kate Chopin
Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson