18The evening darkens over.After a day so brightThe windcapt waves discoverThat wild will be the night.There’s sound of distant thunder.The latest sea-birds hoverAlong the cliff’s sheer height;As in the memory wanderLast flutterings of delight,White wings lost on the white.There’s not a ship in sight;And as the sun goes underThick clouds conspire to coverThe moon that should rise yonder.Thou art alone, fond lover.
18The evening darkens over.After a day so brightThe windcapt waves discoverThat wild will be the night.There’s sound of distant thunder.The latest sea-birds hoverAlong the cliff’s sheer height;As in the memory wanderLast flutterings of delight,White wings lost on the white.There’s not a ship in sight;And as the sun goes underThick clouds conspire to coverThe moon that should rise yonder.Thou art alone, fond lover.
The evening darkens over.After a day so brightThe windcapt waves discoverThat wild will be the night.There’s sound of distant thunder.The latest sea-birds hoverAlong the cliff’s sheer height;As in the memory wanderLast flutterings of delight,White wings lost on the white.There’s not a ship in sight;And as the sun goes underThick clouds conspire to coverThe moon that should rise yonder.Thou art alone, fond lover.
The evening darkens over.After a day so brightThe windcapt waves discoverThat wild will be the night.There’s sound of distant thunder.The latest sea-birds hoverAlong the cliff’s sheer height;As in the memory wanderLast flutterings of delight,White wings lost on the white.There’s not a ship in sight;And as the sun goes underThick clouds conspire to coverThe moon that should rise yonder.Thou art alone, fond lover.
The evening darkens over.After a day so brightThe windcapt waves discoverThat wild will be the night.There’s sound of distant thunder.
The evening darkens over.
After a day so bright
The windcapt waves discover
That wild will be the night.
There’s sound of distant thunder.
The latest sea-birds hoverAlong the cliff’s sheer height;As in the memory wanderLast flutterings of delight,White wings lost on the white.
The latest sea-birds hover
Along the cliff’s sheer height;
As in the memory wander
Last flutterings of delight,
White wings lost on the white.
There’s not a ship in sight;And as the sun goes underThick clouds conspire to coverThe moon that should rise yonder.Thou art alone, fond lover.
There’s not a ship in sight;
And as the sun goes under
Thick clouds conspire to cover
The moon that should rise yonder.
Thou art alone, fond lover.