#005 Literary Echoes

'TEMPUS FUGIT 28' BY ANNA MCNEIL ‘They slept on the abyss without a surge— The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave, The moon, their mistress, had expir’d before; The winds were wither’d in the stagnant air, And the clouds perish’d; Darkness had no need Of aid from them—She was the Universe.’ LORD BYRON