V.
How then, at dim, exciting morn,
Suspense will question—as the Dark
Is clearing seaward—"Has she worn
The tempest through, that Bark?"
And, 'mid the Breakers, bulwarks parting fast,
And wretches clinging to a shiver'd mast,
Give funeral answer. Quick with ropes and yawl!
Launch! and for life stretch out! they shall not perish all!