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THE LONE WILD ISLE.

Sank in the peaceful twilight gray;

The good ship passed from eager sight,

And twilight faded into night.

The storm-king seized his ebon car,

Spreading the sky with fitful clouds,

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And blotted out each sparkling star;

The chill winds moaned in the shrouds; -

Brave sailors watched, with looks of dread,

The heavy, threatening sky o'erhead.

The ship plunged on; no heaven-sent guide

Lit up the deep; - but still they hold

Their unknown course on ocean wide;

The nights keep growing bitter cold;

Soon ice has stiffened yard and rope,

And frozen every thought of hope.

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