Читать книгу Hazards - Wilfrid Wilson Gibson - Страница 19

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A lonely gull,

Hanging above the sea with famished eye,

Searches the barren tide in vain, and utters

Its harsh and hungry cry.

Even so, desire

Has hung all day above my barren mind,

Seeking for something to assuage its hunger,

Something it could not find—

Desire, sharp-set,

Searching the lightless deep with eager eye,

Till into night it sink, too spent to utter

Even a gull’s harsh cry.