... past ! Why should we yet our sail unfurl? There is not a breath the blue wave to curl ! But, when the wind blows off the shore, Oh ! sweetly we'll rest our weary oar. Blow, breezes, blow ! the stream runs fast, The rapids are near, and the daylight's...
Songs, Ballads, and Sacred Songs - Página 28
de Thomas Moore - 1849 - 284 páginas
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