The Swimmers (George Sterling Poems)
We were eight fishers of the western sea,Who sailed our craft beside a barren land,Where harsh with pines the herdless ...
We were eight fishers of the western sea,Who sailed our craft beside a barren land,Where harsh with pines the herdless ...
Cast round me now your arms' cool wreath of white Forget the day's far wakening, and lie More close! Without, the weary world ...
I saw a mountain at the close of day, Snow-crowned and lonely, where the after-glow Lingered, the ghost of sunset, fading slow.I ...
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