Vast barren hills and moors, cliffs over lakes,
Great headlands by the sea---a lonely land!

With Fishers' huts beside a yellow strand
Where wave on wave in foam and thunder breaks,

Or else a tranquil blue horizon takes
Sunlight and shadow.
piano violin interlude
Few can understand The poor folk's ancient tongue, sweet, simple, grand,
Wherein a dreamy old-world half awakes.

And on these hills a thousand years ago
Their fathers wander'd, sun and stars for clock,
With minds to wing above and creep below;
Heard what we hear, the ocean's solemn shock,---
Saw what we see, this Heather-flow'r aglow,
Empurpling league-long slope and crested rock.