LINES ON VISITING STAFFA.
August 1858.
Go visit Stafta: to the wondering soul
There is no spot on earth or sea can claim
One-half its magic power; o'er the mute mind—
Struck dumb in deep amazement—beauty, grandeur, power,
Meet and commingle in stupendous whole.
Oh! the dark beauty of the ocean wave,
Bounding and bursting through the sea-girt cave;
Foaming and breaking onward evermore,
O'er the rude island and its pillared shore.
There is no human life on that bare rock—
Too bleak, too lone and desolate for man—
Yet beasts and birds do congregate thereon,
And wake wild music on that rugged strand.
A columned monument of power divine!
Nature's own hand-craft, all untouched by time,
Go visit Stafta: to the wondering soul
There is no spot on earth or sea can claim
One-half its magic power; o'er the mute mind—
Struck dumb in deep amazement—beauty, grandeur, power,
Meet and commingle in stupendous whole.
Oh! the dark beauty of the ocean wave,
Bounding and bursting through the sea-girt cave;
Foaming and breaking onward evermore,
O'er the rude island and its pillared shore.
There is no human life on that bare rock—
Too bleak, too lone and desolate for man—
Yet beasts and birds do congregate thereon,
And wake wild music on that rugged strand.
A columned monument of power divine!
Nature's own hand-craft, all untouched by time,
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