No further evidence of life, save where
The young whales bask their broad backs in the sun,
Or the gay grampus, sportive as a hare,
Leaps and rejoices, playfully as one
In youth who sees some holiday begun.
Perhaps a crowded steamer, passing by,
Lights up the scene a moment. Trebly dun
The shades of sullen loneliness that lie
On rugged L'Ance l'eau when no living thing is nigh.