Break, break, break,
At the foot of thy crags, O Sea!
But the tender grace of a day that is dead
Will never come back to me.
—Tennyson.
“The noise that twenty or thirty lions can make, deliberately bent on making it and roaring all at once, is unbelievable. They throw their heads up and glory in strength of lungs until thunder takes second place, and the listener knows why not the bravest, not the most dangerous of beasts has managed to impose the fable of his grandeur on men’s imagination.”
—Talbot Mundy, in “The Ivory Trail.”