Alice Duer Miller (28 July 1874 - 22 August 1942 / New York City, New York)
LAST night I saw a city by the sea,
Outlined in sparks of fire;
Those wreathed lamps made all a fantasy -
Arch, dome and spire.
I saw above the waters pale and gray,
The pale moon stand,
I heard, but faint and sweet and far away,
A martial band.
The distant voices in the streets, the sound
Of laughter from the towers
Made where we swam the solitude profound:
The sea was ours.
Comments about this poem (Easton's Beach by Alice Duer Miller )
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