Where the white sea is breaking.
Each flutters and clings
To the torn granite edges,—
The merriest things!
Each flutters and clings.
Have they feathers and wings,
As they perch on the ledges?
Each flutters and clings
To the torn granite edges.
Where the white sea is breaking.
Each flutters and clings
To the torn granite edges,—
The merriest things!
Each flutters and clings.
Have they feathers and wings,
As they perch on the ledges?
Each flutters and clings
To the torn granite edges.