In Romney Marsh

As I went down to Dymchurch Wall, I heard the South sing o'er the land I saw the yellow sunlight fall On knolls where Norman churches stand. And ringing shrilly, taut and lithe, Within the wind a core of sound, The wire from Romney town to Hythe Along its airy journey wound. A veil of purple vapour flowed And trailed its fringe along the Straits; The upper air like sapphire glowed: And roses filled Heaven's central gates. Masts in the offing wagged their tops; The swinging waves pealed on the shore; The saffron beach, all diamond drops And beads of surge, prolonged the roar. As I came up from Dymchurch Wall, I saw above the Downs' low crest The crimson brands of sunset fall, Flicker and fade from out the West. Night sank: like flakes of silver fire The stars in one great shower came down; Shrill blew the wind; and shrill the wire Rang out from Hythe to Romney town. The darkly shining salt sea drops Streamed as the waves clashed on the shore; The beach, with all its organ stops Pealing again, prolonged the roar.