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. The Birth of Light
2. Ebb and Flow
3. The Necropolis
4. Frost-Work
5. To T. B. A.

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