edward bailey : surf riding, 1870
All round is pali,
With many a rill towards the town,
Which meeting all, a babbling stream
Flows rushing emerald banks between
To where 'tis lost within the sea
Among huge rollers of the lea.
And here the naiads
On rampant waves in ceaseless flow ;
Well poised upon the feathery comb,
Like arrows' flight they ride the foam ;
A manly sport, with art complex,
Oft shared in by the softer sex.
A dreamy soul,
in such a place,
Might while away a life-long race ;
But I could ne'er my wits curtail,
Within this lotus eaters tale.