"I said, Tantallon's dizzy steep Hung o'er the margin of the deep.  Many a rude tower and rampart there Repelled the insult of the air, Which, when the tempest vexed the sky, Half breeze, half spray, came whistling by.  A parapet's embattled row Did seaward round the castle go. Sometimes in dizzy steps descending, Sometimes in narrow circuit bending, Sometimes in platform broad extending, Its varying circle did combine Bulwark, and bartizan, and line, And bastion, tower, and vantage-coign.  Above the booming ocean leant The far-projecting battlement; The billows burst, in ceaseless flow, Upon the precipice below."