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THE MARY ROSS
For . . . a swirl . . . a suck . . . when next I rose,
Nought, save the stormy roar!
Down in the darkness I thank’d God.
She was afraid no more.
66
THE MARY ROSS
For . . . a swirl . . . a suck . . . when next I rose,
Nought, save the stormy roar!
Down in the darkness I thank’d God.
She was afraid no more.
66