"And thus the sunny day went by, And night came brooding o'er the seas; A thick cloud swathed the distant sky, And hollow murmurs filled the breeze. The white gull screaming, left the rock, And seaward bent its glancing wing, While heavy waves, with measured shock, Made the dun cliff with echoes ring. How changed the scene! The glassy deep That slumbered in its resting-place, And seeming in its morning sleep To woo me to its soft embrace, Now wakened, was a fearful thing,-- A giant with a scowling form, Who from his bosom seemed to fling The blackened billows to the storm. The wailing winds in terror gushed From the swart sky, and seemed to lash The foaming waves, which madly rushed Toward the tall cliff with headlong dash. Upward the glittering spray was sent, Backward the growling surges whirled, And splintered rocks by lightnings rent, Down thundering midst the waves were hurled. I trembled, yet I would not fly; I feared, yet loved, the awful scene; And gazing on the sea and sky, Spell-bound I stood the rocks between. X. "'Twas strange that I, a mountain boy, A lover of green fields and flowers,-- One, who with laughing rills could toy, And hold companionship for hours, With leaves that whispered low at night, Or fountains bubbling from their springs, Or summer winds, whose downy flight, Seemed but the sweep of angel wings:-- 'Twas strange that I should love the clash Of ocean in its maddest hour, And joy to see the billows dash O'er the rent cliff with fearful power. 'Twas strange,--but I was nature's own, Unchecked, untutored; in my soul A harp was set that gave its tone To every touch without control. The zephyr stirred in childhood warm, Thoughts like itself, as soft and blest; And the swift fingers of the storm Woke its own echo in my breast. Aye, and the strings that else had lain Untouched, and to myself unknown, Within my heart, gave back the strain That o'er the sea and rock was thrown. Yes, and wild passions, which had slept Within their cradle, as the waves At morning by the winds unswept, Rippling within their infant caves-- Now, wakened into billows, rose, And held communion with the storm: I saw the air and ocean close In deadly struggle; marked the form Of the dun cloud with misty wing, That wrestled with the giant main; I saw the racing billows spring Like lions leaping from the plain; I saw the surf that upward threw Gray pyramids of foam to heaven; I heard the battle-cry that flew Along the cliff, as though t'were given To cheer the elemental war; I heard the wild bird screaming near; I felt the rock beneath me jar, As if the granite thrilled with fear;