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Whither, O splendid ship, thy white sails crowding,
Leaning across the bosom of the urgent West,
That fearest nor sea rising, nor sky clouding,
Whither away, fair rover, and what thy quest?

— Robert Bridges Shorter Poems (1879)

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More quotes by Robert Bridges

Perfect little body, without fault or stain on thee,
With promise of strength and manhood full and fair!

Poetry's magic lies in the imagery which satifies even without interpretation..it is accepted as easily as it was created.

Why hast thou nothing in thy face?
Thou idol of the human race,
Thou tyrant of the human heart,
The flower of lovely youth that art.

Angels’ song, comforting
as the comfort of Christ
When he spake tenderly
to his sorrowful flock.

We should not in the field of Reason look to find
less vary and veer than elsewhere in the flux of Life.

The Testament of Beauty (1929)

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Quote text and notes from Wikiquote: Robert Bridges (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source quality and labels are our own summary of what Wikiquote records.