Page:A midsummer holiday and other poems (IA midsummerholiday00swin).pdf/28

 have left the sea-banks ill to climb: Waveward sinks the loosening seaboard's floor: Half the sliding cliffs are mire and slime. Earth, a fruit rain-rotted to the core, Drops dissolving down in flakes, that pour Dense as gouts from eaves grown foul with grime. One sole rock which years that scathe not score Stands a sea-mark in the tides of time.

Time were even as even the rainiest clime, Life were even as even this lapsing shore,