His anger, and persuade him he's a fool.
"But still," said he; "I will not leave in spite,
Till one I've caught, although the coming night
Shall fling down shadows to obscure my sight;
Here will I stop until they choose to bite."
Then Time rushed past, but unsuccessful still
His firm resolve he tarries to fulfil.
While louder yet the tempest wildly roars,
And drives the torrent o'er surrounding shores.
Whence down, resistless, onward bounding hurls