View from the top of Black Comb This height a ministering angel might select: For from the summit of Black Comb (dread name Derived from clouds and storms!) the amplest range Of unobstructed prospect may be seen That British ground commands: -- low dusky tracts, Where Trent is nursed, far southward! Cambrian hills To the southwest, a multitudinous show ; And, in a line of eyesight linked with these, The hoary peaks of Scotland that give birth To Teviot's stream, to Annan, Tweed, and Clyde: -- Crowding the quarter whence the sun comes forth, Gigantic mountains rough with crags; beneath, Right at the imperial station's western base. Main ocean, breaking audibly, and stretched Far into silent regions blue and pale; -- And visibly engirding Mona's Isle, That, as we left the plain, before our sight Stood like a lofty mount, uplifting slowly (Above the convex of the watery globe) Into clear view the cultured fields that streak Her habitable shores, but now appears A dwindled object, and submits to lie At the spectator's feet. -- Yon azure ridge. Is it a perishable cloud? or there Do we behold the line of Erin's coast? Land sometimes by the roving shepherd-swain (Like the bright confines of another world) Not doubtfully perceived. -- Look homeward now! In depth, in height, in circuit, how serene The spectacle, how pure! -- Of Nature's works, In earth, and air, and earth-embracing sea, A revelation infinite it seems; Display august of man's inheritance, Of Britain's calm felicity