The Open Boat (Crane and Norton) 2/27
None knew the color of the sky
A Soldier of the Legion lay dying in Algiers
Their eyes glanced level, were fastened upon the waves
There was lack of woman's nursing, there was dearth of woman's tears
These waves were the hue of slate, the tops were foaming white, all knew the colors of the sea
But a comrade stood beside him, and he took that comrade's hand
The horizon narrowed and
widened, dipped and rose, at all times its edge was jagged with
waves that thrust up in points like rocks
And he said, 'I nevermore shall see my own, my native land'
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