Poem by Albert Laighton

The Wreck

The Ocean sang to my heart last night,
When I folded my hands in rest,
A tune as sweet as a mother sings
To the child upon her breast.

But to-day it wails like a funeral dirge
As they tell, in the quiet town.
How the English ship in sight of land
With a hundred souls went down.

1. Ebb and Flow
2. The Birth of Light
3. Frost-Work
4. The Summer Shower
5. The Necropolis

Print

1639 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version