Always from port withheld, always distress'd—
Me howling winds drive devious, tempest toss'd,
Sails ript, seams op'ning wide, and compass lost,
And day by day some current's thwarting force
Sets me more distant from a prosp'rous course.
But, oh the thought that thou art safe, and he!
That thought is joy, arrive what may to me.
My boast is not that I deduce my birth
From loins enthron'd and rulers of the earth;
But higher far my proud pretensions rise—
The son of parents pass'd into the skies!
And now, farewell-Time unrevok'd has run
His wonted course, yet what I wish'd is done.
By contemplation's help, not sought in vain,
I seem t' have lived my childhood o'er again;
To have renew'd the joys that once were mine,
Without the sin of violating thine :

And, while the wings of Fancy still are free,
And I can view this mimic shew of thee,
Time has but half succeeded in his theft-
Thyself remov'd, thy power to soothe me left.

K

The ice was all around:

It cracked and growled, and roared and howled,

Like noises in a swound!

60

355

30

25

131

It perched for vespers nine;

Whiles all the night, through fog-smoke white,
Glimmered the white moon-shine."

"And the good south wind still blew behind,

But no sweet bird did follow,

Nor any day for food or play

Came to the mariners' hollo!

"And I had done a hellish thing,

And it would work 'em woe:

For all averred, I had killed the bird

That made the breeze to blow.

'Ah wretch!' said they, the bird to siay, That made the breeze to blow!'

85

3

95

"Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt down,

'Twas sad as sad could be;