TROILET by ROLAND LEIGHTON
There's a sob on the sea And the old year is dying. Borne on night wings to me There's a sob on the sea, And for what could not be The great World-heart is sighing. There's a sob on the sea, And the old year is dying.
|Author||Leighton, Roland (1895-1915)|
|Digital repository||The First World War Poetry Digital Archive|