As we cheered to the new year,
That was supposed be the start of gear,
But Alas! we were embraced by an unwelcoming fear,
Fear of mingling, for not to shed tears, ...
Where river and ocean meet in a great tempestuous
frown,
Beyond the bar, where on the dunes the white-
capped rollers break;
Above, one windmill stands forlorn on the arid,
grassy down:
I will set my sail on a stormy day and cross the
bar and seek
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