RACING THE MIST
RACING THE MIST

In each sail that skims the horizon,
In each landward-blowing breeze,
I behold that stately galley,
Hear those mournful melodies;

Till my soul is full of longing
For the secret of the sea,
And the heart of the great ocean
Sends a thrilling pulse through me.
Henry Longfellow 1850

by Emma Rose
50 x 100cm . Indian Inks, golds and acrylics on canvas

RACING THE MIST

In each sail that skims the horizon,
In each landward-blowing breeze,
I behold that stately galley,
Hear those mournful melodies;

Till my soul is full of longing
For the secret of the sea,
And the heart of the great ocean
Sends a thrilling pulse through me.
Henry Longfellow 1850

by Emma Rose
50 x 100cm . Indian Inks, golds and acrylics on canvas