How sleeps yon rock, whose half-day`s bath is done. With broad blight side beneath the broad bright sun, Like sea-nymph tired, on cushioned mosses sleeping. Yet, nearer drawn, beneath her purple tresses From drooping brows we find her slowly weeping. So many a wife for cruel man`s caresses Must inly pine and pine, yet outward bear A gallant front to this world`s gaudy glare. Ilfracombe, 1849.SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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