Xiii

I mind it well, by the sea-beach lying, Once—it’s long gone—when two gulls we beheld, Which, as the moon got up, were flying Down a big wave that sparked and swelled. Crack, went a gun: one fell: the second Wheeled round him twice, and was off for new luck: There in the dark her white wing beckon’d:— Drop me a kiss—I’m the bird dead-struck!