The grey-green stretch of sandy grass, br Indefinitely desolate; br A sea of lead, a sky of slate; br Already autumn in the air, alas! br br One stark monotony of stone, br The long hotel, acutely white, br Against the after-sunset light br Withers grey-green, and takes the grass's tone. br br Listless and endless it outlies, br And means, to you and me, no more br Than any pebble on the shore, br Or this indifferent moment as it dies.