Can I help you? Why are you standing there looking at me like that?

That gangrene in the register of ill / From which men shrink with undisguised disgust, / According to the sternness of their hearts, / And from which women turn recoilingly […]

I get the impression that there were a lot of volcanoes in those olden times, although I might be thinking all the way back to cavemanny times.

A few birches and oaks still feathered the narrow ravines, or occupied in dwarf clusters the hollow plains of the moor.