----- Torquil或Olaf Tryggvason的日子
Torquil or The Days of Olaf Tryggvason.Part First.I.The waves were running wild and high,Their foam crests white against the sky;The clouds athwart the dome of HeavenBurst angrily in gleams of levin;The thunder's savage roaring cameAfter each flash of livid flame.A strange, wild scene, that storm-beat isle,Cleft by the sea from fair Argyle,With barren cliffs of deep grey rock,Storm-washed by every tempest's shock,With hoary mountains, bleak and bare,Rearing their summits in mid-air.
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