LOCAL SCENERY : SHARROW GROT. 59 



The grot looks loftily above the waves 

 And stands encircled with a triple belt 

 Of blackened rocks, chaotic, as if hurled 

 And hurled for ages, by the whelming tide, 

 Pile upon pile, with locks for ever steeped 

 In Western mist, or washed with surges hoar 

 That old Atlantic, in his boundless might, 

 Sends foaming forth from his vast halls profound. 



There is no dwelling near, all desolate 

 A.nd drear, the coastward scene presents not one 

 Retreat from storm or little sheltering bay 

 To shield the seaman in his perilous hour ; 

 But iron-bound and frowning, dark as death 

 Extends the precipice on either hand 

 . Verdureless, save where hardy straggling shoots 

 Of creeping briars climb along the steep, 

 Or sweet erica shows its purple bells 

 And all untenanted but by the brood 

 Of the bold sea-bird fostered here where yet 

 No foot of man hath ventured, where no voice 

 Disturbs them but the raving of the storm. 



And here, o'er beaches of unstained white sand, 

 When golden Summer makes the day serene 

 And the tired winds have sung themselves to rest, 

 The sea steals on in laughing, rippling mood 

 Kissing the sunny freshness of the strand 

 And wantoning around its marge as if 

 No tempest ever ruffled its clear face : 

 While resting on the flood the dusky murre* 

 Sees her own image in the mirror smooth ; 

 And on extended wing the wagel-gullf 

 Soars from his resting place to sit and bask 

 On the soft radiance of the playful deep ; 

 They have no fear, no enemy to dread, 

 The desert of the bay is all their own, 

 For nothing, save some bold Cornubian bark 

 With its red pinions that defy the gale, 

 May venture near this wave-worn, rugged shore. 

 Far far away, 



* Colimbus troile ( Linn.) f Larus marinus (Linn.) 



