 | The Human Inheritance |  |
141
XIII. A DEAD CALM AND MIST.
(Towards evening.)
The slow heave of the sleeping sea
With pulse-like motion swells and falls,
And drowsily a stray gull calls
The very wail of melancholy;
All day the moveless mist has slept
On the same bosom east winds swept:
With pulse-like motion swells and falls,
And drowsily a stray gull calls
The very wail of melancholy;
All day the moveless mist has slept
On the same bosom east winds swept:
No breath of change in the grey mist,
Save just a dream of amethyst.
Save just a dream of amethyst.
| The Human Inheritance | |