ON THE SOUTH COAST.
43
Mild and bland in the fair green land it smiles, and
takes to its heart the sky;
Scarce the meads and the fens, the reeds and grasses,
still as they stand or lie,
Wear the palm of a statelier calm than rests on waters
that pass them by.
Yet shall these, when the winds and seas of equal days
and coequal nights
Rage, rejoice, and uplift a voice whose sound is even as
a sword that smites,
Felt and heard as a doomsman's word from seaward
reaches to landward heights,
Lift their heart up, and take their part of triumph,
swollen and strong with rage,
Rage elate with desire and great with pride that tempest
and storm assuage;
So their chime in the ear of time has rung from age to
rekindled age.
