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Out of Doors.
83
It is the ground-swell of the southern deep,
Rebounding from our iron-fronted shores.
High answer to the Antarctic breakers’ call.
There has been wild work on the seas last night,
And will be more, to break this leaden calm;
There stings a raindrop, like a signal shot.
Come, Rollo, we must find a homeward path
Down this high shoulder of the bending hill,
Whose seaward-slanting Bush of mounded green,
Shaped by the strong South-Easter’s keenest scythe,
Will give us shelter from his coming blast.
Rebounding from our iron-fronted shores.
High answer to the Antarctic breakers’ call.
There has been wild work on the seas last night,
And will be more, to break this leaden calm;
There stings a raindrop, like a signal shot.
Come, Rollo, we must find a homeward path
Down this high shoulder of the bending hill,
Whose seaward-slanting Bush of mounded green,
Shaped by the strong South-Easter’s keenest scythe,
Will give us shelter from his coming blast.