 | Poems: Second Series |  |
FROM THE LOOK-OUT CLIFF.
I gained the topmost height and looked below—Listened and looked again: the billows spoke
With wonted voice of thunder as they broke,
Wave after wave with emerald light aglow,
And changed their crystal clearness for the snow
Of seething foam: deep in their depths were seen
Huge rocky fragments, giant gems of green:
And then I raised my eyes and looked, and lo!
From dim, dark southern headlands far away
To northern peaks of Achil's utmost isle,
And ever westward till the noonday smile
Veiled its horizon, the Atlantic lay—
One infinite expanse of deepest blue
That shamed the cloudless Heaven's fainter hue.
| Poems: Second Series | |