In Romney Marsh

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.