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SETTLERS
On the windy sea-cliffs and the plains apart and lonely,
By the tingling silence you may know that he is there.
But the sea-nymphs make our shores shine gay with light and laughter,
At the sunset when the waves are mingled milk and fire
You may see them very plain, and in the darkness after
You may hear them singing with the stars' great golden choir.
When the earth is mad with song some blue September morning,
In the grove of myall trees that rustle green and grey,
Through the plumes of trailing leaves hung meet for her adorning,
See a dark-browed Dryad peep and swiftly draw away.
In the deep-cut river beds set thick with moss-grown boulders
Where the wagtails come to drink and balance lest they fall,
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