Page:Poems (IA poemstennalfr00tennrich).pdf/120



"!" he said, and pointed toward the land, "This mounting wave will roll us shoreward soon." In the afternoon they came unto a land, In which it seemed always afternoon. All round the coast the languid air did swoon, Breathing like one that hath a weary dream. Above the valley burned the golden moon; And like a downward smoke, the slender stream Along the cliff to fall and pause and fall did seem.