The eternal conflict  between land and sea plays out in the palace's third room. The “iron  coast and angry waves” battle to break each other directly next  door to the previous stanza's coastal scene of a lone figure pacing  along the sea's sandy edge. Menacing undertones of the night sea's  dangers rise to the surface in this stanza as an allegory for the  struggle between human society and the chaotic forces of nature.  Referring to it as the “iron coast” provides the key to  understanding the hint of a deeper meaning in the stanza.
          
Endless expanses of  water beat at the shores of civilization, as indicated by the  reference to iron—a natural element extracted and reformed by  humans to build the structures and machines that drove the  Industrial Revolution. Though the description of the iron coast can  refer simply to the cliffs' colors, the critical ambiguity paints a  poetic image of a coastal boundary wrought by humans to fend off the  vast, inhospitable sea.
          The waves of chaos  batter the shores of civilization, but in the end the waves are  “rock-thwarted” and leave the land's defenses intact. The sea's  destructive energy is fended off for the moment, but the “bellowing  caves,/ Beneath the windy wall” belie the ultimate vulnerability of  the cliffs to erosion by the ceaseless battering by the wind and  waves. This twist complicates the underlying conflict between human  industry's constructive efforts and nature's destructive forces.
          A.C. Swinburne  approaches the same allegorical conflict from the opposite vantage  point in his poem “By the North Sea.” The crashing waves are  thwarted under the cliffs in “The Palace of Art,” but in “By  the North Sea, “Like ashes the low cliffs crumble,/ The banks drop  down into dust” (259-60). Swinburne frames the conflict using  almost exactly the same language and tone, with the same indications  of an allegorical proxy fight between the civilized land and the wild  sea. Iron again supplies the reference to industrialism, “But the  grasp of the sea is as iron,/ Laid hard on the land” in a reverse  of the expected sides in the battle of the elements (265-6). 
          A closer examination  of “The Palace of Art” suggests that the speaker—or at least  the author—recognizes that land, and therefore humans' constructed  civilization, always ultimately succumbs to the wild forces of wind  and water. The battle between sea and cliffs in “The Palace of Art”  occurs directly after the scene on the beach, with waves lapping up  against the sand. Swinburne  includes the “Wide sands where the  wave draws breath” as a reminder of the beaten and broken rocks  that lie under the ocean and along the already-conquered stretches of  sandy shores (270). The site of conflict in “The Palace of Art”  still represents an on-going struggle, but the beach referenced  before it acknowledges the fate of land in its struggle with water  and man's constructed order in its struggle with natures perpetual  chaos. 
          Swinburne's  identification with water, “My mother, my sea,” in “By the  North Sea” calls into question the rigidity of man's association  with land rather than water (274). Human cities and civilization seem  to be firmly rooted to the quickly eroding land, but the human spirit  more easily floats outside of the constraints of civilization and can  instead offer “My dreams to the wind everliving,/ My song to the  sea” (523-4). William Bell Scott's portrait of Swinburne in profile  by the sea illustrates the tension between the author's wild eyes and  red hair and his neatly ordered three-piece suit. A reading of this  painting in the context of the battle between land and sea in “The  Palace of Art” and “By the North Sea” reveals the apparent  conflict between Swinburne's wild spirit and the structured human  society in which he lived.
          The conflicts  between land and sea, civilization and nature, become immediately  evident in the brief glimpse depicted in “The Palace of Art,” and  the allegory persists through the writing of “By the North Sea.”  Swinburne does not contradict Tennyson on the existence of a  conflict; in fact, Swinburne employs much of the same language to  build the association between the superficial physical erosion and  the deeper struggle of civilization to overcome nature's forces.  Rather, Swinburne advances the idea that man need not side with  civilization in that battle—a philosophy he seems to have lived by  throughout his turbulent and tragic life.