It stood, the genius of the sea-blown bank,
And rocked to every passing wind that blew:
Far out at sea that house the pilot knew,
Its friendly light the fishermen would thank.
For entrance, served a solitary plank,
Loud with the feet that pattered to and fro:
Up to the wolds the rising sun looked through,
Down to the sea looked through the sun that sank.
The housewife there had little need to keep
Of rosemary and lavender sweet store,
Her chests were fragrant with the salt sea-air.
There would the weary quite forget his care,
All day could revel on the healthful shore,
Lulled by its tidal tune all night could sleep.
(Sonnets Round the Coast, p. 211)