Poems on Various Subjects By Henry James Pye ... In Two Volumes. Ornamented with Frontispieces |
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 | Poems on Various Subjects |  |
Now the loud winds with angry pinions sweep
The laboring bosom of the stormy deep,
The face of day o'erspread by vapors scowls,
And 'mid the shrowds the increasing tempest howls,
O'er the tall mast the giant surges rise,
And a new Chaos mingles earth and skies;
Bold even in danger's face, the naval train
Exert their force, and try their art in vain;
Despair and Death on all their efforts lower,
And the loud tempest mocks their feeble power.
Large and more large the threatening rocks appear,
And every billow brings their fate more near.—
Steep Purbeck's chalky cliffs, whose welcome sight
So oft have fill'd the bosom with delight,
When, as from hostile coasts and distant skies
The wave-worn mariner, returning, spies
Their well-known summits with exulting eyes,
Renews each scene with thoughts domestic dear,
And wets the cheek with joy's o'er raptur'd tear,
Now in the dreadful garb of terror dress'd
Freeze life's warm tide, and chill the shuddering breast;
And the lov'd shore that life, that freedom gave,
Now sinks her sons beneath the whelming wave.
The laboring bosom of the stormy deep,
The face of day o'erspread by vapors scowls,
And 'mid the shrowds the increasing tempest howls,
O'er the tall mast the giant surges rise,
And a new Chaos mingles earth and skies;
Bold even in danger's face, the naval train
Exert their force, and try their art in vain;
Despair and Death on all their efforts lower,
And the loud tempest mocks their feeble power.
163
And every billow brings their fate more near.—
Steep Purbeck's chalky cliffs, whose welcome sight
So oft have fill'd the bosom with delight,
When, as from hostile coasts and distant skies
The wave-worn mariner, returning, spies
Their well-known summits with exulting eyes,
Renews each scene with thoughts domestic dear,
And wets the cheek with joy's o'er raptur'd tear,
Now in the dreadful garb of terror dress'd
Freeze life's warm tide, and chill the shuddering breast;
And the lov'd shore that life, that freedom gave,
Now sinks her sons beneath the whelming wave.
So Jason's infant race, a suppliant train,
Around their frantic mother cling in vain,
Hang on the parent bosom that supplied
Their earliest nurture with it's milky tide;
On all their pangs she smiles with savage joy,
And her own hands her hated race destroy.
Around their frantic mother cling in vain,
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Their earliest nurture with it's milky tide;
On all their pangs she smiles with savage joy,
And her own hands her hated race destroy.
| Poems on Various Subjects | |