Explore "Phantoms of the Sea" by Ida Lee on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Black phantoms gather o'er the sea, / And move in groups mysteriously; / With shears in hand they watching wait.
The night grows old; the hour is late; / The ocean foams with angry glee, / Its waters roll tempestuously, / And dash the white salt-spangled spray / Against the rocks, in rudest play.