Eugene Field

A Fickle Woman

Her nature is the sea’s, that smiles to-night
A radiant maiden in the moon’s soft light;
The unsuspecting seaman sets his sails,
Forgetful of the fury of her gales;
To-morrow, mad with storms, the ocean roars,
And o’er his hapless wreck the flood she pours!
Ti è piaciuta questa lettura? Offriteci un caffè!.
Il tuo aiuto ci permette di esistere.
Altre opere di Eugene Field...



Alto