“I Found Her Out There”
I found her out thereOn a slope few see,That falls westwardlyTo the salt-edged air,Where the ocean breaksOn the purple strand,And the hurricane shakesThe solid land.
I brought her here,And have laid her to restIn a noiseless nestNo sea beats near.She will never be stirredIn her loamy cellBy the waves long heardAnd loved so well.
So she does not sleepBy those haunted heightsThe Atlantic smitesAnd the blind gales sweep,Whence she often would gazeAt Dundagel’s far head,While the dipping blazeDyed her face fire-red;
And would sigh at the taleOf sunk Lyonnesse,As a wind-tugged tressFlapped her cheek like a flail;Or listen at whilesWith a thought-bound browTo the murmuring milesShe is far from now.
Yet her shade, maybe,Will creep undergroundTill it catch the soundOf that western seaAs it swells and sobsWhere she once domiciled,And joy in its throbsWith the heart of a child.
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