Vietnam or Thailand? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week!
Want to type faster? Practice with a typing test or have fun with typing games!
Updated: October 22, 2026
“The wild path grew wilder each instant, And place was e’en grudged ’Mid the rock-chasms and piles of loose stones, Like the loose broken teeth Of some monster which climbed there to die From the ocean beneath— Place was grudged to the silver-grey fume-weed That clung to the path, And dark rosemary ever a-dying, That, spite the wind’s wrath, So loves the salt rock’s face to seaward, And lentisks as staunch To the stone where they root and bear berries, And ... what shows a branch Coral-coloured, transparent, with circlets Of pale sea-green leaves.”
“Tocsins from yon bleak turrets never ring; No knight or pages pace those galleries, So sombre and so silent: ever cling To that cold church and palace draperies Of glaucous fume-weed; sea-birds ever sing The vanished glories with low mournful cries.”
Covered from base to summit with fume-weed, lentisk, aromatic cistus, and every plant that loves the sun, the wind and the salt foam of the Mediterranean, the huge solitary cliff rises majestically from the deep blue water.