On the Gulf of Night
The world's sad petrels dwell for evermore
On windy headland or on ocean floor,
Or pierce the violent skies with perilous flights
That fret men in their palaces o' nights,
Breaking enchanted slumber's easeful boat
With shudderings of their wild and dolorous note;
They blow about the black and barren skies,
They fill the night with ineffectual cries.
There is for them not anything before,
But sound of sea and sight of soundless shore,
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