XX - The Surges Gushed And Sounded
The surges gushed and sounded,
The blue was the blue of June,
And low above the brightening east
Floated a shred of moon.
The woods were black and solemn,
The night winds large and free,
And in your thought a blessing seemed
To fall on land and sea.
The blue was the blue of June,
And low above the brightening east
Floated a shred of moon.
The woods were black and solemn,
The night winds large and free,
And in your thought a blessing seemed
To fall on land and sea.
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