Get out the microscope, because we’re going through this poem line-by-line.
Lines 11-12
The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls
Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls;
- Whew, after all that twilight and darkness and footprints being erased, the dawn comes again.
- Okay, technically we get "the morning breaks," which is just like saying, "the dawn breaks," or pierces the sky, emerges from the darkness, comes blasting through the curtains of night, tears down the inky curtain… you get it the picture.
- The emergence of the morning is yet another metaphor for, or symbol of, rebirth, new life.
- While the morning is emerging, the horses are stamping and neighing in their stalls, and the hostler is calling—much like the sea was in first stanza. Is he calling to the horse? To somebody else? Again, it's not clear.
- Vocab alert: a "hostler" is technically a guy who works at an inn and looks after the horses of the people staying at the inn.
- Notice how, even though the traveler is likely no longer with us, there are other people and animals still alive and kicking: the hostler and those horses.
- This is the speaker's subtle way of saying that life does indeed go on.
- People come and go. Everybody dies. To put it another way: the tide rises, the tide falls.
Lines 13-15
The day returns, but nevermore
Returns the traveler to the shore,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
- Just in case we didn't understand the speaker when he said the morning "breaks," he expresses the same idea in slightly different terms with the return of the day. All that nighttime stuff is a thing of the past.
- Sadly, though, so is the traveler, who will never return to the shore we saw him walking along earlier in the poem.
- This is not because he's moved to a different part of the country, or because he has decided that he no longer wants to hang out by the shore. It is because he has died.
- Okay, so the speaker never says, "the traveler isn't coming back because he's dead," but all the images and word choice in the poem suggest that he has died. The tide falls (that fall here is a metaphor for death, as in "he fell in battle") and it's twilight, which is the "death" of daytime. As well, the traveler's footprints are being washed away ("effaced").
- Even though the traveler is dead, though, life goes on. The day comes back, and is filled with the life of the hostler and his horses.
- Of course, the speaker isn't just talking about a dead traveler, however. Well, he is in one way, but he's talking about much more than that. The traveler is just his example. The death of the traveler, the rising and falling of the tides—these are just metaphors for death and rebirth more generally. The poem's big idea is applicable to just about everything.
- Let's say, for example, that your best friend moves away. That'll be no fun for a while, but you'll get over it, right? Eventually you'll make new friends, you'll find some way to still have some fun. Life, in some way, will go on.
- Let's say you get dumped by your significant other. It feels like the world is going to end. But you know what?
- It doesn't. Eventually, you pick yourself up and find someone new. Life, gang, goes on.
- Change, loss, death—it's all a part of life. There's no changing that. Things go up, and then things go down. As sure as that tide rises, well, it's headed down again.