At Whitehead Bay
Hail King!Of sea-flung wind, And far-gemmed marshes bending Low, those cliffs That jut rough shoulders 'gainst the sky, And stand unbent, Amidst the tug and shove Of sea; the heave! of blue, and Ho! of God's past motion, Spirit's hover o'er the ocean In the hush and dusk Before our time began.
Hail King! Of light unbridled And the seagulls plunging wild And hard as daylight, riled, flings a storm To earth. The surf foams up, A breathless, frenzied rush Of dark to catch the light, And deep to touch the soft, white Skin of shore, the gentle sand The roughened ocean waves Adore.