THERE is twilight grey and gloomy Where the sea its velvet trails; Out across the heavens roomy Draw the veils. Bitter and sonorous rises The complaint from out the deeps, And the wave the wind surprises Weeps. Viols there amid the gloaming Hail the sun that dies, And the white spray in its foaming, "Miserere" sighs. Harmony the heavens embraces, And the breeze is lifting free To the chanting of the races Of the sea. Clarions of horizons calling Strike a symphony most rare, As if mountain voices falling Vibrate there. As though dread unseen were waking, As though awesome echoes bore On the distant breeze's quaking The lion's roar. |