All is going on as it was wont. The waves are hoarse with repetition of their mystery the dust lies piled upon the shore the sea-birds soar and hover the winds and clouds go forth upon their trackless flight the white arms beckon, in the moonlight, to the invisible country far away. (Charles Dickens)

All is going on as it was wont. The waves are hoarse with repetition of their mystery the dust lies piled upon the shore the sea-birds soar and hover the winds and clouds go forth upon their trackless flight the white arms beckon, in the moonlight, to the invisible country far away.

Charles Dickens

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arms beckon country dust far flight forth hoarse hover invisible moonlight mystery repetition shore soar white wont lies

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