J.H. Prynne - If there is a Stationmaster at Stamford S.D. Hardly So lyrics

A matter of certain essential oils volatile in the prolonged evening nor would he allow as the light stemmed back boarded up in the face of that the line ran swiftly and skimming the crests only into the hills of Vietnam With so little water the land creates a curved & muted extension the whole power is just that, fantasy of control the dispersion, in such level sky of each pulse the sliding fade-through of hills "a noble evasion of privacy" This is parkland for watered sould, the final policeman's dream that the quanta of wish and desire, too, can be marched off to some goal so distant where in the hermitage of our last days the handcuffs would seem an entirely proper abstraction: the dry and arid gentleness, to the eye with its own confidence in the deep wells of the spirit All no more than a land in drift curled over and dry, but buried way under the ice and as spillway for these glacial waters the scented air runs easily into the night and while the public hope is as always the darkened ward the icecap will never melt again why should it