 | The coming of love |  |
O God! a blazing world of sea—
A blistered deck—an engine's grinding jar—
Hot scents of scorching oil and paint and tar—
And, in the offing up yon fiery lee,
One spot in the air no bigger than a bee—
A frigate-bird that sails alone afar!
(He takes from his pocket and reads a letter from Rhona which reached him in Australia.)
A blistered deck—an engine's grinding jar—
76
And, in the offing up yon fiery lee,
One spot in the air no bigger than a bee—
A frigate-bird that sails alone afar!
(He takes from his pocket and reads a letter from Rhona which reached him in Australia.)
| The coming of love | |