gleaming towns;
Southward shining, the lands declining subside in peace that the
sea's light crowns.

Westward wide in its fruitful pride the plain lies lordly with
plenteous grace;
Fair as dawn's when the fields and lawns desire her glitters the
glad land's face:
Eastward yet is the sole sign set of elder days and a lordlier
race.

Down beneath us afar, where seethe in wilder weather the tides
aflow,
Hurled up hither and drawn down thither in quest of rest that they
may not know,
Still as dew on a flower the blue broad stream now sleeps in the
fields below.

Mild and bland in the fair green land it smiles, and takes to its
heart the sky;
Scarce the meads and the fens, the reeds and grasses, still as they
stand or lie,
Wear the palm of a statelier calm than rests on waters that pass
them by.

Yet shall these, when the winds and seas of equal days and coequal
nights
Rage, rejoice, and uplift a voice whose sound is even as a sword
that smites,
Felt and heard as a doomsman's word from seaward reaches to