Page:Beachy Head and Other Poems.pdf/16

8

The fishermen, who at set seasons pass Many a league off at sea their toiling night, Now hail their comrades, from their daily task Returning; and make ready for their own, With the night tide commencing:—The night tide Bears a dark vessel on, whose hull and sails Mark her a coaster from the north. Her keel Now ploughs the sand; and sidelong now she leans, While with loud clamours her athletic crew Unload her; and resounds the busy hum Along the wave-worn rocks. Yet more remote, Where the rough cliff hangs beetling o'er its base, All breathes repose; the water's rippling sound Scarce heard; but now and then the sea-snipe's cry Just tells that something living is abroad; And sometimes crossing on the moonbright line,