Drift-Weed

Whilst the greatest effort has been made to ensure the quality of this text, due to the historical nature of this content, in some rare cases there may be minor issues with legibility. The day is bitter. Through the hollow sky Rolls the clear sun, inexorably bright, Glares on the shrinking earth, a lidless eye, Shedding no warmth, but floods of blinding light. The hurricane roars loud. The facile s...