本书摘录：
Dedication
TO
MY SISTERS IN AUSTRALIA
ANNIE AND FRANCES
The sea beats in at Blakeney-- Beats wild and waste at Blakeney； O‘er ruined quay and cobbled street, O‘er broken masts of fisher fleet, Which go no more to sea. The bitter pools at ebb-tide lie, In barren sands at Blakeney； Green, grey and green the marshes creep, To where the grey north waters leap By dead and silent Blakeney. And Time is dead at Blakeney-- In old, forgotten Blakeney； What care they for Time‘s Scythe or Glass； Who do not feel the hours pass, Who sleep in sea-worn Blakeney? By the old grey church in Blakeney, By quenched turret light in Blakeney, They slumber deep, they do not know, If Life‘s told tale is Death and Woe； Through all eternity. But Love still lives at Blakeney, ‘Tis graven deep at Blakeney； Of Love which seeks beyond the grave, Of Love‘s sad faith which fain would save
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