We were crowded in the cabin;
Not a soul would dare to speak;
It was midnight on the waters
And a storm was on the deep.
—James T. Fields.
2.
Break, break, break,
At the foot of thy crags, O sea!
But the tender grace of a day that is dead
Will never come back to me.
—Tennyson.
3.
Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor
—Poe.
4.
Sweet and low, sweet and low,
Wind of the western sea,
Low, low, breathe and blow,
Wind of the western sea!