• AND turning north around the hill, The flat sea like an adder curled, And a flat rock amid the sea Gazing towards the ugly town, And on the gat sands, dirty brown, A thousand naked bodies hurled .• Like an army overthrown.
And turning south around the hill, Green islands drinking' the blue waves, And tumbling from the white sea-walls Like Et thousand waterfalls To climb like fountains back again, Rapturous 'divers never still.
Motion and rest. rthink this hill Was made to show these cliffs and caves.
• So he thought. But he has never Stood again upon that hill.
He lives far inland -by a river .
That higher up divides these lands ; But where or bow he does not know, Or where the twisting highways go That journey, to the waiting sea On this or that side of the hill, Or if, arriving, he will be With the white divers never still, Or on the sad dishonoured sands. EDWIN. MUIR.