Fugitives Poem by John Bannister Tabb
Fugitives
To-night, far inland from the sea,
The winds, a frighted Legion, flee
With wailings of distress;
While Cataracts from many a steep
Plunge, headlong, foaming to the deep,
To drown their restlessness.
Anon, where each has passed away,
The shaken reed, the scattered spray.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
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4/23/2024 10:13:24 AM # 1.0.0.1119
