(West Coast of Scotland, p. 55.)
"Where the Northern Ocean in vast whirls
Boils round the naked, melancholy Isles
Of further Thule, ....
Who can recount what transmigrations there
Are annually made? What nations come and go?
And how the living clouds arise.
Infinite wings! till all the plume-dark air
And rude resounding shore are one wild cry?"