Convexing broad and broader, as more great
Their numbers from where prejudice is mentor.
THE BLIGHT TO SPRING
Hark, 'tis the sea! How leonine its roar!
But, oh, how more the lion on a height,
As there he glares and listens for the night,
Having devoured day's clouds from shore to shore!
Now grows his mane of billows, high and hoar.
What scents he? Potencies escaping sight,