The sailors say ’twill be rough to-night, As they fasten the hatches down, The south is black, and the bar is white, And the drifting smoke is brown. The gold has gone from the western haze, The sea-birds circle and swarm –But we shall have plenty of sunny days, And little enough of stormWill. H. Ogilvie.
Source: There is only to wait for a new day’s birth and the hills stand out again. For no less sure than the rising sun, and no less glad to see Is the lifting sky when the rain is done and the wet grass rustles free. George Charles Whitney. | THE OLD PROVERBIAL RECOVERY