Memorials of Travel: V. On the Sea-cliff

Ruins of a church with its miraculous well,
O’er which the Christ, a squat-limbed dwarf of stone,
Great-eyed, and huddled on his cross, has known
The sea-mists and the sunshine, stars that fell
And stars that rose, fierce winter’s chronicle,
And centuries of dead summers. From his throne
Fronting the dawn the elf has ruled alone,
And saved this region fair from pagan hell.
Turn! June’s great joy abroad; each bird, flower, stream
Loves life, loves love; wide ocean amorously
Spreads to the sun’s embrace; the dulse-weeds sway,
The glad gulls are afloat. Grey Christ to-day
Our ban on thee! Rise, let the white breasts gleam,
Unvanquished Venus of the northern sea!