Sydney Jephcott


Home-Woe

The wreckage of some name-forgotten barque,
   Half-buried by the dolorous shore;
   Whereto the living waters never more
   Their urgent billows pour;
But the salt spray can reach and cark --

So lies my spirit, lonely and forlorn,
   On Being's strange and perilous strand.
   And rusted sword and fleshless hand

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