Story copied from the Wikisource. Soft laps the ocean on wave-polish'd boulder, Sweet is the sound and familiar to me; Here, with her head gently bent to my shoulder, Walk'd I with Unda, the Bride of the Sea. Bright was the morn of my youth when I met her, Sweet as the breeze that blew o'er the brine. Swift was I captur'd in Love's strongest fetter, Glad to be here, and she glad to be mine. Never a question ask'd I where she wander'd, Never a question ask'd she of my birth: Happy as children, we thought not nor ponder'd, Glad of the bounty of ocean and earth.
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dbkwik:resource/MiKZkM6fR6YwYZeFiH3E9Q== | 5.88129e-14 |