The Sky Aft Was Dark As Pitch, But The Moon Still Shone Brightly Ahead Of Us And Lit Up The Blackness. Beneath Its Sheen A Huge White-topped Breaker, Twenty Feet High Or More, Was Rushing On To Us. It Was On The Break-the Moon Shone On Its Crest And Tipped Its Foam With Light. On It Rushed Beneath The Inky Sky, Driven By The Awful Squall Behind It.
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The Sky Aft Was Dark As Pitch,
H. Rider Haggard
The Sky Aft Was Dark As Pitch, But The Moon Still Shone Brightly Ahead Of Us And Lit Up The Blackness. Beneath Its Sheen A Huge White-topped Breaker, Twenty Feet High Or More, Was Rushing On To Us. It Was On The Break-the Moon Shone On Its Crest And Tipped Its Foam With Light. On It Rushed Beneath The Inky Sky, Driven By The Awful Squall Behind It.
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