‘And this wide ruin of a once new shore Scooped by new waves to waves of solid rock, Dark-shelving, white-veined, as if marbled o’er By the fresh surf still trickling block to block! O worn-out waves of night, long set aside— The moulded storm in dead, contending rage,— Like monster-breakers of a by-gone age! And now the gentle waters o’er you ride.