VII.

I have found a grassy niche Hollowed in a seaside hill, As if the ocean-grandeur which Is aspectable from the place, Had struck the hill as with a mace Sudden and cleaving. You might fill That little nook with the little cloud Which sometimes lieth by the moon To beautify a night of June; A cavelike nook which, opening all To the wide sea, is disallowed From its own earth's sweet pastoral: Cavelike, but roofless overhead And made of verdant banks instead Of any rocks, with flowerets spread Instead of spar and stalactite, Cowslips and daisies gold and white: Such pretty flowers on such green sward, You think the sea they look toward Doth serve them for another sky As warm and blue as that on high.