In Print 07

O'er Moonfleet Bay as darkness reigns,
I viewed the sky pure and unstained,
Except for the stars and their mother the sun,
For whom the work has just begun.

Milk-white horses ride the waves,
That lap the coffins in the Mohunes' graves;
The flowing tide, as with mighty hands,
Stretches itself out o'er the silvery sands.

Before me Moonfleet village lay,
Sleeping until another day,
To come and lighten the deepest creek,
To come and lighten the highest peak.

Slowly, stealthily, swirled the fog,
I was lost in the wood, alone with my dog.
Gone were all familiar things;
No sign of home and the joy that it brings.

No sound of birds or rustling leaves,
Cold wet fingers of bushes and trees;
Loneliness comes with all of these -
Lost in the fog with my dog.