Albert Laighton (Альберт Лейтон)

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. The Necropolis
2. The Birth of Light
3. On a Lock of Farragut’s Hair
4. Ebb and Flow
5. Frost-Work

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1732

Последние стихотворения

To English version