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By Emerson, Nathaniel Bright
The fountains must be a-hoarding,
For skies are ever down-pouring;
The while I am lodged up aloft,
20 Bestowed in the cleft of a rock.
Now, tossed by sea at Mamala,
The wind drives wildly the surf;
I’m soaked with the scud of the ocean,
Artist: Emerson, Nathaniel Bright
Year: 1850