the Retired Marine Officer, Isle of Man

Not pangs of grief for lenient time too keen,
Grief that devouring waves had caused, nor guilt
Which they had witnessed, swayed the man who built
This homestead, placed where nothing could be seen,
Nought heard of ocean, troubled or serene.
A tired Ship-soldier on paternal land,
That o’er the channel holds august command,
The dwelling raised,—a veteran Marine;
Who, in disgust, turned from the neighbouring sea
To shun the memory of a listless life
That hung between two callings. May no strife
More hurtful here beset him, doom’d, though free,
Self-doom’d to worse inaction, till his eye
Shrink from the daily sight of earth and sky!