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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.

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