lines on visiting staffa.
It stands in beauty, majesty, and power,
A rock of ages, present, and to come.
Long will the memory of that sea-bound cave
Glide in its beauty o'er the awe-struck mind;
And the deep music of the rushing wave,
Leave the sad echo of its lull behind.
Yet one thing lacked this worshipped scene to me,
And that was solitude, save me and thee.
I would not have the gay and garish crowd,
In stage-struck mimicry and voices loud,
Proclaiming each and every deep emotion
Of that wild scene, amid the wilder ocean.
Oh, no! in silent wonder worship there,
And, if an echo, but the voice of prayer.
A rock of ages, present, and to come.
Long will the memory of that sea-bound cave
Glide in its beauty o'er the awe-struck mind;
And the deep music of the rushing wave,
Leave the sad echo of its lull behind.
Yet one thing lacked this worshipped scene to me,
And that was solitude, save me and thee.
I would not have the gay and garish crowd,
In stage-struck mimicry and voices loud,
Proclaiming each and every deep emotion
Of that wild scene, amid the wilder ocean.
Oh, no! in silent wonder worship there,
And, if an echo, but the voice of prayer.
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