I fall as the slow sea crests

Just as hulking, white snow-tree nests,

When chopping, are timber tops toppling:

Waves crash as a sea bough dropping. 

I climb as the cliff-end peaks

Whither summit the stiff, bent creeks

Whose frowning, ice-crystal crown crowning

Holds down my heavy head drowning. 

I sink as the pale, rough moon's

Sloughing tides drain the stale lagoons,

When flowing, brute undertow towing,

Know elsewhere the white waves growing.