Hayeswater
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region desolate and wild.Black, chafing water: and afloat,And lonely as a truant childIn a waste wood, a single boat:No mast, no sails are set thereon;It moves, but never moveth on:And welters like a human thingAmid the wild waves weltering. Behind, a buried vale doth sleep,Far down the torrent cleaves its way:In front the dumb rock rises steep,A fretted wall of blue and grey;Of shooting cliff and crumbled stoneWith many a wild weed overgrown:All else, black water: and afloat,One rood from shore, that single boat.
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