Skip to content

Chapter XIV

Text size

Trembling she sees the paleness of her face
In those white clouds which now the sun surround,
Who doth in heaven his spectral way retrace.
Behold, the days brought back, the hours unwound,
The angry sun unto the zenith bound
And the pale moon replace!

Comments

Log in to leave a comment.

The poems of Thomas Gordon HakeChapter XIV

0%1 min left in chapter