For works with similar titles, see The Rock.
THE ROCK
Slow sloping to its point pyramidal,A brown rock rises from the ocean waste;Seaward, great billows there incessant hasteAnd to their shoreward brethren flash and call.I see the vast horizon rise and fall,As when my blood with many raptures raced;And on that pointed rock, by heaven embraced,I see a maiden lifted over all.
As shines the rose above inferior flowers,So sprang her beauty up, supreme to be;As comes the rainbow on departing showers,So bloomed and faded that fair memory;So stood she "on the top of happy hours,"And drank the sunrise glory of the sea.