Medwayosh

A REALM of dreams, where sky and water merge
In far dim vapours, mingling blue in blue ;
Where low-rimmed shores shimmer like gold shot through
Some misty fabric. Lost, in dreams I urge
With lazy oar my skiff through sunny surge,
That rings its music round the rocks and sands ;
Passing to silence, where far-lying lands
Loom blue and purpling from the morning's verge.
I linger in dreams, and through my dreaming comes,
Like sound of sufFring heard through battle drums,
An anguished call of sad heart-broken speech ;
As if some wild lake-spirit, long ago,
Soul-wronged, through hundred years its wounded woe
Moans out in vain across each wasted beach.