What say they when the ship is toss’d,
Strikes, breaks asunder, and is lost!—
Not one alive to tell the tale! * * *
Oh! think ye ’t better than the vale,
The ivied cluster, nook, or mossy mound? * * *
No! never, never be it sung or said—
“Sea scenes can ever match the land,”
Where, like to this, God’s works so grand
Majestically dight its face;
When Sol, empower’d afresh, with grace