The evening darkens over
After a day so bright,
The windcapt waves discover
That wild will be the night.
There's sound of distant thunder.
The latest sea-birds hover
Along the cliff's sheer height;
As in the memory wander
Last flutterings of delight,
White wings lost on the white.
There's not a ship in sight;
And as the sun goes under,
Thick clouds conspire to cover
The moon that should rise yonder.
Thou art alone, fond lover.
More verses by Robert Seymour Bridges
- To The President Of Magdalen College, Oxford
- Noel: Christmas Eve 1913
- To Thos. Floyd
- The Affliction Of Richard
- Spring Goeth All In White