Poems on Several Occasions | ||
The Tempest.
I
Standing upon the Margent of the main,Whilst the high boiling tyde came tumbling in,
I felt my fluctuating thoughts maintain,
As great an Ocean, and as rude within,
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As that, which daily laves her chalky bounds.
II
Soon could my sad imagination find,A parallel to this half world of Flood,
An Ocean by my walls of Earth confin'd,
And Rivers in the chanells of my blood,
Discov'ring Man, unhappy Man, to be
Of this great Frame, Heavens Epitome.
III
There pregnant Argosies with full Sails rideTo shoot the Gulphs of sorrow and despair,
Of which the Love no Pilot has to Guide,
But to her Sea-born Mother steers by pray'r,
When oh! the Hope her anchor lost, undone
Rowls, at the mercy of the Regent Moon.
IV
'Tis my ador'd Diana, then must beThe Guidress to this beaten Bark of mine,
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And waft my hope over the vaulting Brine,
Call home thy venture Dian, then at last,
And be as merciful, as thou art chast.
Poems on Several Occasions | ||