Sonnets Round the Coast by H. D. Rawnsley |
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THE BLOW-HOLE, KYNANCE CAVES. |
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 | Sonnets Round the Coast |  |
26
VI. THE BLOW-HOLE, KYNANCE CAVES.
When still the rocks were young, ere thought was born,The same old sea that from the sands is fled
Worked at these halls of marble green and red,
And still, laborious, toils both night and morn.
Here Syrian sailors, of their god forlorn,
Saw Derceto rise o'er her cavern bed,
Or Latin helmsmen knew the dolphin's head,
And heard in fancy Triton sound his horn.
But now St. Malo's bells above the moor
Swing, and within these hollow ocean caves
No human knee is ever bent in prayer,
Save when a mother finds her dead boy there,
And though the surge blows trumpets at the door
No sea-god speaks in thunder from the waves.
| Sonnets Round the Coast | |