As our sires beheld before us we behold Grace Darling Crowned and throned our queen, and as they hailed we hail her name. Nay, not ours alone, her kinsfolk born, though chiefliest ours, East and west and south acclaim her queen of England's maids, Star more sweet than all their stars and flower than all their flowers, Higher in heaven and earth than star that sets or flower that fades. How should land or sea that nurtured her forget, or love Hold not fast her fame for us while aught is borne in mind? Land and sea beneath us, sun and moon and stars above, Bear the bright soul witness, seen of all but souls born blind. Stars and moon and sun may wax and wane, subside and rise, Age on age as flake on flake of showering snows be shed: Not till earth be sunless, not till death strike blind the skies, May the deathless love that waits on deathless deeds be dead. Years on years have withered since beside the hearth once thine I, too young to have seen thee, touched thy father's hallowed hand: Thee and him shall all men see for ever, stars that shine While the sea that spared thee girds and glorifies the land. LOCH TORRIDON TO E. H. The dawn of night more fair than morning rose, Stars hurrying forth on stars, as snows on snows Haste when the wind and winter bid them speed. Vague miles of moorland road behind us lay Scarce traversed ere the day Sank, and the sun forsook us at our need, Belated. Where we thought to have rested, rest Was none; for soft Maree's dim quivering breast, Bound round with gracious inland girth of green And fearless of the wild wave-wandering West, Shone shelterless for strangers; and unseen The goal before us lay Of all our blithe and strange and strenuous day. For when the northering road faced westward--when The dark sharp sudden gorge dropped seaward--then, Beneath the stars, between the steeps, the track We followed, lighted not of moon or sun, And plunging whither none Might guess, while heaven and earth were hoar and black, Seemed even the dim still pass whence none turns back: And through the twilight leftward of the way, And down the dark, with many a laugh and leap, The light blithe hill-streams shone from scaur to steep In glittering pride of play; And ever while the night grew great and deep We felt but saw not what the hills would keep Sacred awhile from sense of moon or star; And full and far Beneath us, sweet and strange as heaven may be, The sea.