Long trills and gushing ecstacies of song
For these wild headlands and the sea-mew’s clang—
With thee beneath my windows, pleasant Sea,
I long not to o’erlook earth’s fairest glades
And green savannahs—Earth has not a plain
So boundless or so beautiful as thine;
The eagle’s vision cannot take it in:
The lightning’s wing too weak to sweep its space
Sinks half-way o’er it like a wearied bird:
It is the mirror of the stars, where all