Not loveliest of the plain."

Hood, Progress of Art.

"Some watch, some call, some see her head emerge

Wherever a brown weed falls through the foam;

Some point to white eruptions of the surge—

But she is vanish'd to her shady home,

Under the deep inscrutable, and there

Weeps in a midnight made of her own hair."

Hood, Hero and Leander.

"Ever drifting, drifting, drifting,