Poems and Cat Puke
The clouds have left the sky,The wind hath left the sea,The half-moon up on highShrinketh her face of dree She lightens on the combOf leaden waves, that roarAnd thrust their hurried foamUp on the dusky shore. Behind the western barsThe shrouded day retreats,And unperceived the starsSteal to their sovran seats. And whiter grows the foam,The…