The grey sea and the long black land,
And the yellow half-moon large and low,
And the startled little waves that leap,
In fiery ringlets from their sleep,
As I gain the cove with pushing prow,
And quench its speed i' the slushy sand.
Then a mile of warm sea-scented beach
Three fields to cross till a farm appears
A tap at the pane, the...
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Be the best mangina you can be!
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[Edited on Aug 01, 2003]