Chapter 8 No.8

Around the rocky headlands, far and near,

The wakened ocean murmured with dull tongue

Till all the coast's mysterious caverns rung

With the waves' voice, barbaric, hoarse, and drear.

Within this distant valley, with rapt ear,

I listened, thrilled, as though a spirit sung,

Or some gray god, as when the world was young,

Moaned to his fellow, mad with rage or fear.

Thus in the dark, ere the first dawn, methought

The sea's deep roar and sullen surge and shock

Broke the long silence of eternity,

And echoed from the summits where God wrought,

Building the world, and ploughing the steep rock

With ploughs of ice-hills harnessed to the sea.