marshlands A thin wet sky, that yellows at the rim, / And meets with sun-lost lip the marsh’s brim. / The pools low lying, dank with moss and mould, / Glint through their mi english
through time and bitter distance Unknown to you, I walk the cheerless shore. / The cutting blast, the hurl of biting brine / May freeze, and still, and bind the waves at war, / Ere you will ever english