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No louring clouds to bring fear The hills on the horizon
To the hearts of men. Roll sweetly to the sea.
No clouds to hide No ugliness there.
The only stark line of his creation – Across the horizon,
All else is gentle. Aware of the stillness
No ugliness there. That must remain
Undisturbed,
E’en the sun, The curlew and the cormorant fly,
In all its majesty and chemical combustion The red shanks line astern
Here in the Rhinns Lest they disturb too much the air.
Is gentle and appealing. No ugliness there.
Cooled by the breeze from the sea,
It rises and falls Even the sea feels
In gentle majesty. The tranquillity of
No ugliness there. His soothing hand.
The equinox tides may arouse the sea,
But beauty remains.
The marine blues and greens
Fringed in delicate white lace.
Search as I may – no ugliness there.
Search for ugliness
Amidst the rocks –
You will find none there.

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