Page:A midsummer holiday and other poems (IA midsummerholiday00swin).pdf/158

 Cries of hungering waves like beasts fast bound that gnash their teeth, All of these the sun that lights them lights not like his fame; None of these is but the thing it was before he came. Where the darkling overfalls like dens of torment seethe, High on tameless moorlands, down in meadows bland and tame, Where the garden hides, and where the wind uproots the heath, Glory now henceforth for ever, while the world shall be, Shines, a star that keeps not time with change on earth and sea.