Some of my lords and I one idle morn
Crossed to Eubœa,—’tis a pleasure trip,
On a clear day scarce out of sight of home—
We landed ’neath Œchalia by noon,
And, crossing o’er the isle on mules, were lodged
That night at Chalcis. The next day at dawn
I played the spy. ’Twas such a breathless morning
When all the sound and motion of the sea
Is short and sullen, like a dreaming beast:
Or as ’twere mixed of heavier elements