The wind blew close to the ground - it rooted among the tussock grass - slithered along the road, so that the white pumice dust swirled in our faces - settled and sifted over us and was like a dry-skin itching for growth on our bodies.
in the midst a little riuer plaide / Emongst the pumy stones, which seemd to plaine / With gentle murmure, that his course they did restraine.