Where sleep the haggard Spirits of the storm,
Wild dreary are the schistine[11] rocks around
Encircled by the wave, where to the breeze
The haggard Cormorant shrieks. And far beyond
Are seen the cloud-like Islands, grey in mists.[12]
Thy awful height, Bolerium, is not loved
By busy Man, and no one wanders there
Save he who follows Nature,—he who seeks
Amidst thy crags and storm-beat rocks to find
The marks of changes teaching the great laws