The chidden billow seems to pelt the clouds....
I never did like molestation view
On the enchafed flood.
but even the unruly elements spare Desdemona:
Tempests themselves, high seas and howling winds,
The gather'd rocks and congregated sands.
Traitors ensteep'd to clog the guiltless keel--
As having sense of beauty, do omit
Their mortal natures, letting go safely by
The divine Desdemona.