A MILK-WHITE SAIL
A milk white, tiny sail
Skims fast across my sea; I wail
The threatening storms to see;—
But my bark glides free toward the lee,
So near the shore
And safe from the angry roar.
Skims fast across my sea; I wail
The threatening storms to see;—
But my bark glides free toward the lee,
So near the shore
And safe from the angry roar.