Text of the Poem
He clasps the crag with crooked hands; Close to the sun in lonely lands, Ringed with the azure world, he stands. The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls: He watches from his mountain walls, 5 And like a thunderbolt he falls.
He clasps the crag with crooked hands; Close to the sun in lonely lands, Ringed with the azure world, he stands. The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls: He watches from his mountain walls, 5 And like a thunderbolt he falls.