University of Virginia Library

Instead of Ocean's billowy pride,
Where monsters play and navies ride,
Oft had he viewed, as morning rose,
The bosom of the lonely Lowes,
Ploughed far by many a downy keel
Of wild-duck and of vagrant teal.
Oft thrilled his heart at close of even,
To see the dappled vales of heaven,
With many a mountain, moor, and tree,
Asleep upon the Saint Mary;
The pilot swan majestic wind,
With all his cygnet fleet behind,
So softly sail, and swiftly row,
With sable oar and silken prow.
Instead of war's unhallowed form,
His eye had seen the thunderstorm

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Descend within the mountain's brim,
And shroud him in its chambers grim;
Then from its bowels burst amain
The sheeted flame and sounding rain,
And by the bolts in thunder borne,
The heaven's own breast and mountain torn;
The wild roe from the forest driven;
The oaks of ages peeled and riven;
Impending oceans whirl and boil,
Convulsed by Nature's grand turmoil.