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Poem by Robert Seymour Bridges * * * The evening darkens over After a day so bright, The windcapt waves discover That wild will be the night. There's sound of distant thunder. The latest sea-birds hover Along the cliff's sheer height; As in the memory wander Last flutterings of delight, White wings lost on the white. There's not a ship in sight; And as the sun goes under, Thick clouds conspire to cover The moon that should rise yonder. Thou art alone, fond lover. Robert Seymour Bridges Robert Seymour Bridges's other poems:
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