Of Pygmies, Palms and Pirates

Of pygmies, palms and pirates,

Of islands and lagoons,

Of blood-bespotted frigates,

Of crags and octoroons,

Of whales and broken bottles,

Of quicksands cold and grey,

Of ullages and dottles,

I have no more to say.

Of barley, corn and furrows,

Of farms and turf that heaves

Above such ghostly burrows

As twitch on summer eves

Of fallow-land and pasture,

Of skies both pink and grey,

I made my statement last year

And have no more to say.