Question

Past cotton-grass and moorland boulder
Shovelling white steam over her shoulder,
Snorting noisily as she passes
Silent miles of wind-bent grasses.
Birds turn their heads as she approaches,
Stare from the bushes at her blank faced coaches.
Sheep dogs cannot turn her course;
They slumber on with paws across.
moorla
snortin
In the farm she passes no one wakes,
But a jug in a bedroom gently shakes.​

Answer 1

Answer:

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