That castle stands the highest in the land

Far seen and mighty. Of the great hewn stones

What shall I say? And deep foss way

That far beneath us bore of old

A swelling turbid sea

Hill-born and tumultuous

Unto the fields below, where

Staunch villein and

Burgher held the land and tilled

Long labouring for gold of wheat grain

And to see the beards come forth

For barley’s even time.

But archèd high above the curl of life

We dwelt amid the ancient boulders,

Gods had hewn and druids turned

Unto that birth most wondrous, that had grown

A mighty fortress while the world had slept,

And we awaited in the shadows there

When mighty hands had laboured sightlessly

And shaped this wonder ’bove the ways of men.

Me seems we could not see the great green waves

Nor rocky shore by Tintagoel

From this our hold,

But came faint murmuring as undersong,

E’en as the burghers’ hum arose

And died as faint wind melody

Beneath our gates.