Gustave Doré
1798 text
The coming wind doth roar more loud;
The sails do sigh like sedge:
The rain pours down from one black cloud
And the Moon is at its edge.
1834 text
And the coming wind did roar more loud,
And the sails did sigh like sedge;
And the rain poured down from one black cloud;
The Moon was at its edge.
