Page:Astrophel and other poems (IA astrophelotherpo00swiniala).pdf/91

 Nearer now; but all the madness of the storming surf Hounds and roars them back; but roars and hounds them back in vain: As a pleasure-skiff may graze the lake-embanking turf, So the boat that bears them grates the rock where-toward they strain. Dawn as fierce and haggard as the face of night scarce guides Toward the cries that rent and clove the darkness, crying for aid, Hours on hours, across the engorged reluctance of the tides, Sire and daughter, high-souled man and mightier-hearted maid. Not the bravest land that ever breasted war's grim sea, Hurled her foes back harried on the lowlands whence they came,