The extraordinary patience of things！

    This beautiful place defaced with a crop of surburban houses-

    How beautiful when we first beheld¹ it，

    Unbroken field of poppy and lupin walled with clean cliffs；

    No intrusion but two or three horses pasturing，

    Or a few milch cows rubbing their flanks on the outcrop rockheads-

    Now the spoiler has come： does it care？

    Not faintly. It has all time. It knows the people are a tide

    That swells² and in time will ebb³， and all

    Their works dissolve. Meanwhile the image of the pristine⁴ beauty

    Lives in the very grain of the granite⁵，

    Safe as the endless ocean that climbs our cliff.-As for us：

    We must uncenter our minds from ourselves；

    We must unhumanize our views a little， and become confident

    As the rock and ocean that we were made from.