contents | previous | next Where on the fracture'd cliff, the billows break Musing, my solitary seat I take, And listen to the deep and solemn roar. O'er the dark waves the winds tempestuous howl; The screaming sea-bird quits the trouble sea: But the wild gloomy scene has charms for me, And suits the mournful temper of my foul.
Already shipwreck'd by the storms of Fate, Like the poor mariner methinks I stand, Cast on a rock; who sees the distant land From whence no succour comes or comes too late. Faint and more faint are heard his feeble cries, 'Till in the rising tide, the exhausted sufferer dies. |
