Where the horn of the headland is sharper,
And her green floor glitters with fire,
The sea has the sun for a harper,
The sun has the sea for a lyre.
The waves are a pavement of amber,
By the feet of the sea-winds trod
To receive in a god’s presence-chamber
Our father, the God.
Time, haggard and changeful and hoary,
Is master and god of the land: