On this Island: III. Seascape

Look, stranger, at this island now

The leaping light

for your delight discovers,

Stand stable here and silent be,

That through the channels

of the ear

May wander like a river

The swaying sound of the sea.

Here at a small the field's ending pause

Where the chalk wall

falls to the foam

and its tall ledges

Oppose the pluck

And knock of the tide,

And the shingle scrambles

after the sucking surf,

And a gull lodges

A moment on its sheer side.

Far off like floating seeds the ships

Diverge on urgent

voluntary errands

And the full view

Indeed may enter

And move in memory

as now these clouds do,

That pass the harbour mirror

And all the summer

through the water saunter.