THE TOILWORN MARINEB.
Sad morn with silver mist, That veiled a .vast, grey_ sea; Hei co.ol, soft hand he kissed, And left the sable quay. And, ever climbing, ploughs His craft from crest to crest. When will he lean, O Love, his throbbing brows Upon thy pitying breast? Grey even, sinking gloom! Above a boundless sea, That breaks with hollow boom Lone, everlastingly. From heaving crest to crest Hia craft will climb no more; His weary brows are pillowed on her breast — She lulls him evermore. — Charles Oscar Palmer. February 14, 1901.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/OW19010403.2.234
Bibliographic details
Otago Witness, Issue 2455, 3 April 1901, Page 57
Word Count
92THE TOILWORN MARINEB. Otago Witness, Issue 2455, 3 April 1901, Page 57
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