Save when with dog, obedient at command,
And gun, the sportsman quits his city home,
And brushing through the ling in quest of game doth roam.
And lo! in wild confusion scattered round,
Huge, shapeless, naked, massy piles of stone
Rise, proudly towering o'er this barren ground,
Scowling in mutual hate—apart, alone,
Stern, desolate they stand—and seeming thrown
By some dire, dread convulsion of the earth
From her deep, silent caves, and hoary grown