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80
DANGER—A PERSONIFICATION.
Grim Danger left his home in chartless wastesTo count his chances in our narrow seas;
What anchors he might drag, what noble masts
Disable, on the rock or in the breeze:
And while he rode the waves from place to place
Like Hermes, his rude eyes the lighthouse met;
And, as it seemed to scan his heathen face
At leisure, he was dazzled and beset.
Morn dawn'd—in haste he bade the winds prepare
To wreck at eve th' outgoing fisherman:
But Fitzroy heard—the storm-drum rose in air,
And not a coble but had changed its plan;
While in his ears the spit-buoys swung their bells,
He could not dodge our English sentinels.
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