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V
THE STEAM-BOAT.
White wings, that o'er the hyacinthine seaWith joy or hope or sorrow long have sped;
Since first he voyaged whom the Colchian wed;
Bearing lone ships o'er many a salt degree:
A voice came thence where ye were wont to be;
A strange and serpent utterance; high o'er head,
Trailed its dark breath; and with Ixion's tread
A keel passed by, mocking the stormy lee.
Into the rack, far lessening, on it went,
As once that antique lover of the cloud:
While ye to veering winds were bowed and bent;
And Ocean roared with his great voice aloud;
Lashing his waves 'gainst isle and continent,
Vexed with the wake that wheel-borne ship had ploughed.
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