STADDON HEIGHTS. 143 



The wild birds are assembling for repose 

 And sailing slowly on extended wing, 

 From their far flights across the changeful sea, 

 Their " pathways in the wide and stormy deep. " 

 The hawk and sea-mew seek their eyrie high 

 Where the rock whitens in the southern wind 

 Their low/ lone shrieks as in mid air they float, 

 Are the sole voices that disturb the rest 

 Of Silence, in her deep and stilly dream. 



Distant and near, some mingling with the sky 

 Like little atoms to the straining sight, 

 And others almost close beneath the land 

 Repose, amid the calm, unnumbered ships 

 Fraught with the wealth of nations : from the yards, 

 Loosely extended, hang the spreading sails 

 Eager to catch the lightest stream of wind 

 That evening yields them now the sinewy arm 

 Of the browned seaman bends the pliant oar, 

 Urging his loitering bark beyond the calm ; 

 And all are anxious for the smiling port 

 Or the still distant seas ; Yet fear th ey not 

 The billowy fury of the midnight storm, 

 Sudden, with darkness, roaring from the abyss 

 If near the shelter of that wave-girt mole 

 That rears its marble strength above the deep, * 

 Tempest may come in wrath of mighty winds 

 And Ocean's depths lay bare their sandy base, 

 But here the waters rest without a voice 

 And there that mighty bulwark meets the leap 

 Of the dark waves, and on its stony front 

 Receives the impetuous might of their career 

 Crushed into clouds of foam. 



The populous town 



Circled with fertile hills of richest green, 

 And clothed in a transparent atmosphere 

 Pure with Atlantic's vigorous bracing breeze, 

 Reflects upon its towers the splendid light 

 Of Evening's parting beams, the crowded port 

 And distant villas blushing in her rays 



* The Breakwater. 



