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Far reaching downs a solid sea sunk everlastingly to rest, And yet whose billows seem to be for ever heaving toward the west: The tiny field-mice make their nests, the summer insects buzz and hum Among the hollows and the crests of this wide ocean stricken dumb, Whose rollers move for ever on, though sullenly, with fettered wills, To break in voiceless wrath upon the crumbled bases of far hills, Where rugged outposts meet the shock, stand fast, and hurl them back again, An avalanche of earth and rock, in tumbled fragments on the plain; But, never heeding the rebuff, to right and left they kiss the feet Of hanging cliff and bouldered bluff till on the farther side they meet, And once again resume their march to where the afternoon sun dips Toward the west, and Heaven's arch salutes the Earth with ruddy lips. 19