Armor

For guide to Raz a shepherd at Trogor,
Haired like Evhage of old, took me in care;
And then we trod, breathing its spicy air,
The Cymric land with golden broom grown o'er.

The West grew red, and still we walked yet more,
Till to my face the brine its breath did bear;
When cried the man, stretching his long arm where
The landscape lay beyond: Sell euz armor!

And o'er the heather's rose the ocean was seen,
Which, splendent, monstrous, waters with the green
Salt of its waves the cape's granitic breast;

And then my heart, before the horizon's void,
As evening's vasty shade drew toward the West,
The rapture-thrill of space and winds enjoyed.