 | Sonnets Round the Coast |  |
205
IX. FLAMBOROUGH.
Headland of flame, thy tower may flash by night,But these far-gleaming promontories glow
Through mist or sunshine, citadels of snow;
Above the gloomy waters, dancing light
Plays in each shadowy hall and lucent bight,
And wondering tides clap hands of awe, and go
By milk-white monolith and portico,
With swift return, as if for sheer delight.
But he who wanders in thy hollow caves
Will hear a wailing murmur, see the stain
Like blood, in pool and on the pavement thrown;
As though for all the wash of cleansing waves
The signs of Ida's struggle must remain,
When on the heights he won Northumbria's crown.
| Sonnets Round the Coast | |