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SUNSET IN THE SOUTH
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Low the deep voice of the ocean, whispering to the silent strand;
Gleam the stars, in silver ripples; stretches broad the milk-white sand;
And a long, low bark is lying underneath the island shore
Weird and dream-like, darksome, soundless, spell-struck now, and evermore.
Deeper, darker fall the shadows, and the charmed colours wane,
Fading, as the fay-gold changes into earth and dross again,
Wildfowl stream in swaying files landward to the marshy plain;
Louder sound the forest voices and the deep tones of the main.
