 Wysłany: Śro 11:13, 16 Lut 2011 Temat postu: . . . Turn again |
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She had the hardcold Edwards' blood In all her veins--and so she died. One time I thoughtbefore she passed To give her peace; but ere I spake MethoughtHE will be first to break The news in heaven and for his sake I held mine back until the last. And here I sitnor care to roam; I only wait to hear his call. I doubt not that this day next fall Shall see me safe in portwhere all And every ship at last comes home. And you have sailed the Spanish Main 131 And knew my Jacob? . . . Eh skechers shape up shoes! Mercy authentic lv cheap 201005112111372816aaq! Ah authentic nike heels! God of wisdom! hath the sea Yielded its dead to humble me? My boy Indiana…youwillnotwonder―consents! . . . My Jacob! . . . Turn again! GUILD'S SIGNAL [William Guild was engineer of the train which on the 19th of April1813plunged into Meadow Brookon the line of the Stonington and Providence Railroad. It was his customas often as he passed his hometo whistle an "All's well" to his wife. He was foundafter the disasterdeadwith his hand on the throttle-valve of his engine.] Two low whistlesquaint and clear: That was the signal the engineer-- That was the signal that Guild'tis said-- Gave to his wife at Providence As through the sleeping townand thence Out in the night On to the light Down past the farmslying white |
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