Burst upon rocks and were foam;

Crumbled to ruin, still gazing a glacial wonder;

Turned shamed feet toe to heel on their track at a panic pace.

Yesterday's clarion cock scudded hen of the invalid comb;

They, the triumphant tonant towering upper, were under;

They, violators of home, dared hope an inviolate home;

They that had stood for the stroke were the vigorous hewers;

Quick as the trick of the wrist with the rapier, they the pursuers.