He clasps the crag with crooked hands;
Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ring'd with the azure world, he stands.
The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;
He watches from his mountain walls,
And like a thunderbolt he falls.
---Alfred Tennyson
Please don't direct link to this page. If you feel the need to have a picture then at least use courtesy and right click and save. Direct linking causes a lot of problems and slows down the loading time for you.
© 2000
