Incipit
Black loom the crags of the uplands behind me, Dark are the sands of the far-stretching shore. Dim are the pathways and rocks that remind me Sadly of years in the lost Nevermore. Soft laps the ocean on wave-polish’d boulder, Sweet is the sound and familiar to me; Here, with her head gently bent to my shoulder, Walk’d I with Unda, the Bride of the Sea. Bright was the morn of my youth when I met her, Sweet as the breeze that blew o’er the brine. Swift was I captur’d in Love’s strongest fetter, Glad to be here, and she glad to be mine. Never a question ask’d I where she wander’d, Nev …
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