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Tregardock

by Sir John Betjeman

A mist that from the moor arose
In sea fog wraps Port Isaac Bay
The moan of warning from Trevose
Makes grimmer this October day

Only the shore and cliffs are clear
Gigantic slithering shelves of slate
In waiting awfulness appear
Like journalism full of hate

On the steep path a bramble leaf
Stands motionless and wet with dew
The grass bends down the bracken's brown
The grey-green gorse alone is new

Cautious my sliding footsteps go
To quarried rock and dripping cave
The ocean leaden still below
Has hardly strength to lift a wave

I watch it crisp into its height
And flap exhausted on the beach
The long surf menacing and white
Hissing as far as it can reach

The dunlin do not move
Each bird is stationary on the sand
As if a spirit in it heard
The final end of sea and land

And I on my volcano edge
Exposed to ridicule and hate
Still do not dare to leap the ledge
And smash to pieces on the slate

A mist that from the moor arose
In sea fog wraps Port Isaac Bay
The moan of warning from Trevose
Makes grimmer this October day

(*also sung by Justin Hayward and the Moody Blues on "Poetry in Motion", a collection of songs based on the works of Sir John Betjeman)