Page:Poems Frances Elizabeth Browne.djvu/33

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BRAY HEAD, WICKLOW.
25
Whilst below, 'midst the rocks, the sea eddied and boiled,
With the roar as of cannon, and fruitlessly toiled,
  As the waters were chafed in their might.

One false step, and our wanderings for ever were o'er,
And earth's varied beauties would charm us no more,—
  We should sink in the chasm below!
From the fearful abyss, then, our eyes let us turn,
To where Howth and yon miniature isle we discern,
  And the waters so peacefully flow.

Perchance, my dear Charlotte, when hither you stray,
When your friend may be far o'er these waters away,
  You may think of your wanderings here;
And wherever that absent one's footsteps may rove,
Yet Erin's sweet shores and kind friends she will love,—
  They will still be to memory dear.