As In A Picture Poem by Sir Lewis Morris

WHITE, on a cliff they stood ;
Beyond, a cypress wood.

Three there were one who wept,
And one as though he slept ;

One with wide steadfast eyes
Fixed in a sad surprise.

Day, like a dying hymn,
Grew gradually dim.

A solitary star
Gleamed on them from afar.

Beneath, by sand and cave
Sobbed the continual wave.

Long time in reverent thought
Who these might be I sought,

Then suddenly I said,
'Oh, Lord of quick and dead !'