University of Virginia Library

The Description of a Tempest, and a Fight at Sea.

Now, deep in Night, the rowling Surges rise,
And swelling Seas presage Tempestuous Skies.
With angry Foam the raving Billows roar,
And, white with Chafing, make their fury more.
Thro' the thick air each Wave his Waters hurls,
And in thick Clouds Wrap their fierce, foaming curls.
The tossing Seas now proudly mount on high,
And Tow'r still up, as if to scale the Sky.
Whilst the rough Winds encrease the boist'rous War,
And drive on Troops of Billows from afar.
Now raging less, two Rival Vessels meet,
And each, behind them, left a shatter'd Fleet.
From Mount'nous heights they were with horrour thrown,
Into a Hell of Waters tumbled down.
Now both at once, in all their danger struck,
And each believ'd that he had forc'd a Rock.
Toss'd by the storm, they both are Mounted up,
And view each other from the Billows top.
Inrag'd, they now are for the War prepar'd,
Their Foe both scorn, nor is the Tempest fear'd.
Bold Sons of Mortals, who no Laws obey!
Their rage grows fiercer than the Winds, or Sea.
Now both the Fleets are met, and louder roar
Than the mad Floods, and all the storm before.
The Voice of War thro' all the Ships had made,
A mighty Tempest, tho' the Winds were lay'd.
From their rude sides so fierce a Flame was thrown,
None dreaded now, or could expect to drown.
Each is desirous here his Life to lose,
And Deaths, far worse, than what they shunn'd they choose.
A desp'rate Courage from their danger grows,
They fall content among their slaughter'd Foes.
Just so, one Wave does o'er the former Tow'r,
And on it's Head with all his Forces pour.
Each spends it self to dash the other down,
And with his ruines, he involves his own.
Now, in vast sheets the curling light'ning flies,
As if the Guns had set on Fire the Skies.
Dread Jove storms high, and thunders loudly down,
He fears the Victors should invade his throne.
The Sons of Earth dar'd once attempt his Sky,
And these Sea-Gyants sure, are vast as they.
With all their spreading Wings they fly afar,
And every Word they utter, threatens War.
Thick Clouds of smoak from their loud Guns arise,
And in large, gloomy rolls, mount, and obscure the Skies.
So roar the Cannons on the Noisy Main,
The Thunder does but Eccho them again.
Here, the proud Seas so vastly large appear,
A Squadron Fires, and dreads a Navy there.
Beaten by Waves, each fears his party gone,
And thinks he Fights with the whole Fleet alone.
Now, in Confusion they would leave the fray,
Thro' watry Walls, they fly, and Plow the Sea,
For he's the Conq'rour, who can hast away.