The sea is fleck'd with bars of gray
The dull dead wind is out of tune
And like a wither'd leaf the moon
Is blown across the stormy bay

Etched clear upon the pallid sand
The black boat lies: a sailor boy
Clambers aboard in careless joy
With laughing face and gleaming hand

And overhead the curlews cry
Where through the dusky upland grass
The young brown-throated reapers pass
Like silhouettes against the sky