• Inversnaid

  • This darksome burn, horseback brown,
  • His rollrock highroad roaring down,
  • In coop and in comb the fleece of his foam
  • Flutes and low to the lake falls home.
  • A windpuff-bonnet of fáawn-fróth
  • Turns and twindles over the broth
  • Of a pool so pitchblack, féll-frówning,
  • It rounds and rounds Despair to drowning.
  • Degged with dew, dappled with dew,
  • Are the groins of the braes that the brook treads through,
  • Wiry heathpacks, flitches of fern,
  • And the beadbonny ash that sits over the burn.
  • What would the world be, once bereft
  • Of wet and of wildness? Let them be left,
  • O let them be left, wildness and wet;
  • Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet.
photograph of Inversnaid Falls upstream, with Ash & Fern
photograph: Isle of Man: Balaglas glen ferns
“flitches of fern”
(see “Inversnaid,” line 11)

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