... to awful silence bound.
A gulf of gloomy blue, that opens wide
And bottomless, divides the midway tide.
Like leaning masts of stranded ships appear
The pines that near the coast their summits rear;
Of cabins, woods, and lawns a pleasant shore
Bounds calm and clear the chaps still and hoar;
Loud thro' that midway gulf ascending, sound
Unnumber'd streams with hollow roar profound:

[return]

[Variant 110:]

1836
Mount thro' the nearer mist the chaunt of birds,
And talking voices, and the low of herds,
The bark of dogs, the drowsy tinkling bell,
And wild-wood mountain lutes of saddest swell.


1820

Mount thro' the nearer mist the chaunt of birds,
And talking voices, and the low of herds,
The bark of dogs, the drowsy tinkling bell,
And wild-wood mountain lutes of saddest swell.

[return]

[Variant 111:]

1836
Think not, suspended from the cliff on high,
He looks below with undelighted eye.
1820

Think not, suspended from the cliff on high,
He looks below with undelighted eye.

[return]