Iv

But hail-- As the tide slackens, As the wind beats out, We hail this shore. We sing to you, Spirit between the headlands And the further rocks.

Though oak-beams split, Though boats and sea-men flounder, And the strait grind sand with sand And cut boulders to sand and drift--

Your eyes have pardoned our faults. Your hands have touched us. You have leaned forward a little And the waves can never thrust us back From the splendour of your ragged coast.