Flanders Moss (continued again...)
(23rd June 2026)
The worm, the rich worm, has a noble domain
In the field that is stored with its millions of slain ;
The charnel-grounds widen, to me they belong,
With the vaults of the sepulchre, sculptured and strong.
The tower of ages in fragments is laid,
Moss grows on the stones, and I lurk in its shade ;
And the hand of the giant and heart of the brave
Must turn weak and submit to the worm and the grave...
First stanza of Song of the Worm by Eliza Cook (b. 1818)
Cawood, E., (2026), Spagnum Moss
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