Wine-dark, fern-tufted; I am afloat in froth,
That seethes and sparkles on a heaving clear
Sunned chrysoprase; hued like a burnet-moth
Here the cliff shows, shell-crusted wholly here
With shells, bathing their lucid filaments
In lapsing crystal; among twilit grots,
Fulfilling strange mysterious intents,
I hear far waters commune in dim spots
With weird rock-comrade, monster fish, or seal,
Or slumberous anemones that feel.
Through yon chaotic arch of vasty height,
Of grand proportion, hewn by Titan hand
Of turbulent tempest, flying in blue light
Appear white sails, and capes of basking land,
Rich hazy brown; here towering dread forms
Of silent crag brood awful and alone:
These have absorbed all terror of the storms,
That wear, combat, caress their writhen stone.
II.
My soul said then to Earth and Air:
"How can I deem that ye would dare
To smile and dally, if ye did
The deed of darkness? holding hid
My stolen child, my withered blossom,
Plucked, trampled, dead in your dark bosom!
If at the heart of your mad glee
