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Poems

By George Dyer

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Thou lonesome shore, I hail thee! Not a star
Illumes the skies, and not a sound is heard!
Nature, as tho' to help mankind to think,
Seems a short pause to hold:—no traveller
Paces the beach; the only living thing,
Scarce living, the poor shell-fish, that I tread,
Buried in sand and stone, beneath my feet.