There! the sable grey sandstones
O'er which the bereaved wind moans
The frenzy waves lash on the moss,
The crying seagull hover at a loss!
The unsteady masts totter in the middle,
The pathless sea-boats grope in the riddle.
And when the island prepares for the duels
The growing cirrus's laugh over the vales!
There! on the dark grey sandstones
The frenzy froth faints and groans...
The baby on the cradle feels the mad wind
The roosting birds in their lair cry flying behind!
The shadow of anxiety grips on the huts;
When the dagger of destiny rips through the hearts
Yet the grey sandstones stand, lofty and austere
Run away mind! You have no time to stand and stare!
