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Arthur Symons - A Winter Dirge
Work rating: Low

The heath has withered on the moor, 
Here at the wan sea`s edge 
I hear the thundering breakers roar; 
Against: the tortured hedge 
I lean and hear the wind that wails 
As if a child had cried. 
Far off I see the shifting sails 
That strive with wind and tide. 
And, stranger than all human speech 
Or any woman`s sigh, 
I hear the waves beat on the beach 
And the sea-gull`s cry.
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