MALHAM COVE
WAS the aim frustrated by force or guile, When giants scooped from out the rocky ground, Tier under tier, this semicirque profound? (Giants–the same who built in Erin’s isle That Causeway with incomparable toil!)– Oh, had this vast theatric structure wound With finished sweep into a perfect round, No mightier work had gained the plausive smile Of all-beholding Phoebus! But, alas, Vain earth! false world! Foundations must be laid 10 In Heaven; for, ‘mid the wreck of IS and WAS, Things incomplete and purposes betrayed Make sadder transits o’er thought’s optic glass Than noblest objects utterly decayed. 1819.