Page:Studies in Song - Swinburne (1880).djvu/191

 Slowly, gladly, full of peace and wonder Grows his heart who journeys here alone. Earth and all its thoughts of earth sink under Deep as deep in water sinks a stone. Hardly knows it if the rollers thunder, Hardly whence the lonely wind is blown.

Tall the plumage of the rush-flower tosses, Sharp and soft in many a curve and line Gleam and glow the sea-coloured marsh-mosses, Salt and splendid from the circling brine. Streak on streak of glimmering seashine crosses All the land sea-saturate as with wine.