grey blackness of fog against
still invisible ridge
motionless black branches above
fence in foreground
how should that give scope when it
is not in action
one both the solution and future
loss in viewing it
kings princes the dregs of their
dull race who flow
Shelley’s poems two hundred years
ahead of his time
blue blackness of fog against still
invisible ridge
sound of waves breaking on sand in
mouth of channel
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