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Poem by Augusta Webster Safe Wild wintry wind, storm through the night, Dash the black clouds against the sky, Hiss through the billows seething white, Fling the rock-surf in spray on high. Hurl the high seas on harbour bars, Madden them with thy havoc-shriek Against the crimson beacon-stars — Thy rage no more can make me weak. The ship rides safely in the bay, The ship that held my hope in her — Whirl on, wild wind, in thy wild fray, We hear our whispers through the stir. Augusta Webster Augusta Webster's other poems: 1190 Views |
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