As Slow I Climb The Cliff'S Ascending Side, Much Musing On The Track Of Terror Past, When O'Er The Dark Wave Rode The Howling Blast, Pleased I Look Back, And View The Tranquil Tide That Laves The Pebbled Shore: And Now The Beam Of Evening Smiles On The Gray Battlement, And Yon Forsaken Tower That Time Has Rent: The Lifted Oar Far Off With Transient Gleam Is Touched, And Hushed Is All The Billowy Deep! Soothed By The Scene, Thus On Tired Nature'S Breast A Stillness Slowly Steals, And Kindred Rest; While Sea-Sounds Lull Her, As She Sinks To Sleep, Like Melodies That Mourn Upon The Lyre, Waked By The Breeze, And, As They Mourn, Expire!