None, Veil

Rough strain, with hulk tongue, and staff,
all with mirrors to each chaff,
when by the flog, husk, and straw,
vast the rage what caught the gaff!

blood in the sea once I saw,
sickly by the sight my jaw,
to their homes too deaf to care,
on the skin as do what crawls;

cattle, and with them stout mares,
what lo my eyes indeed rare,
even the kind sky did hail:
alas, gloom, and no one cares!

yet under the sun none veil,
nary in a deep cold vale,
specks the clever mark like nails,
nor beams of all time curtail.