The text comes from Elegiac Sonnets (1797–1800), vol. 2.
| Is there a solitary wretch who hies° | goes | |
| To the tall cliff, with starting pace or slow, | ||
| And, measuring, views with wild and hollow eyes | ||
| Its distance from the waves that chide below; | ||
| Who, as the sea-born gale with frequent sighs | ||
| Chills his cold bed upon the mountain turf, | ||
| With hoarse, half-utter’d lamentation, lies | ||
| Murmuring responses to the dashing surf? | ||
| In moody sadness, on the giddy brink, | ||
| I see him more with envy than with fear; | ||
| He has no nice felicities that shrink | ||
| From giant horrors; wildly wandering here, | ||
| He seems (uncursed with reason) not to know | ||
| The depth or the duration of his woe. |