Ebenezer Elliott

Walkley

SARAH and William Adams! here we stood,
Roofed by the cloud, which cast his frown between
Wardsend and Loxley’s moorlands. From the wood
Of one-starred Grenno, like a sea unseen,
The wind swept o’er us, seeming, in his might,
To shake the steadfast rocks; while, rushing keen
Beyond the edge of darkness, stormy light,
As from a league-wide trumpet, on the scene
A cataract of glory poured; and, bright
In gloom, the hill-tops islanded the night
Of billowy shade around us. Vale and hill,
Forest and cloud, were restless as a fight;
They seemed as they would nevermore be still;
While, anchored over all, the high-poised kite
Saw the foamed rivers dash their blue with white.