SWART hill and shrunken valley, long gray clouds
Smoke all into the sunset, interlaced
With sheen of gold and crimson; vapour shrouds
Droop from the sky upon the ocean-waste.
Long barren shores by any hope untrod,
Dark seas as empty of all loveliness;
And overhead, the silent ways of God,
Stretch; and the silent world is pitiless.
So – And the day drifts outward o’er the sea,
And the dark waters, leprous-white with scars,
Move; and a murmur ushers back to me
A grisly night aghast with shivering stars.
(E J Rupert Atkinson)
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