BY THE NORTH SEA.
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7.
No fortalice fronting her stands:
But reefs the bloodguiltiest of murder
Are less than the banks of her sands:
These number their slain by the thousand;
For the ship hath no surety to be,
When the bank is abreast of her bows and
Aflush with the sea.
8.
To dawn out of darkness but one,
Out of waters that hurtle and welter
No succour to dawn with the sun
