 | Ailes d'Alouette |  |
12
THE TROVBLED SEA
THE weary ever-wandering waves,
That know no change from their unrest,
Make murmuring in hollow caves,
And sighing on the soft sand's breast,
That they for ever to and fro
Beneath the pitiless sky must go.
That know no change from their unrest,
Make murmuring in hollow caves,
And sighing on the soft sand's breast,
That they for ever to and fro
Beneath the pitiless sky must go.
The toiling tempest-driven ships,
That buffet with the angry foam,
Escape at last its hungry lips
And hail their white-cliffed harbour-home.
But the wild waves no rest may know,
But toss for ever to and fro.
That buffet with the angry foam,
Escape at last its hungry lips
And hail their white-cliffed harbour-home.
But the wild waves no rest may know,
But toss for ever to and fro.
| Ailes d'Alouette | |