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Title: The Broken Mast
Author: Frank Oliver Call [ More Titles by Call]
It lies alone upon a tide-swept shore, Above a crescent beach of silver sand, Flung high upon the rocks by some great hand Stretched from the dark, whose fingers clutched and tore The main-mast from the ship. Above it soar White gulls, and near in wild-rose tangle stand Old twisted pines, where song-birds of the land Mingle soft singing with the ocean's roar. And through long summer days it dreams old dreams Of far-off southern forests, and the sighing Of wind-blown boughs above bird-haunted streams; But when the storm sets the white spindrift flying It thrills and trembles with the old unrest, And shakes the wild-rose petals from its breast.
[The end] Frank Oliver Call's poem: Broken Mast ________________________________________________
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