With ballast snug—I put about, and scudded for the land.
Loud hissed the sea beneath her lee; my little boat flew fast,
But faster still the rushing storm came borne upon the blast.
Lord! what a roaring hurricane beset the straining sail!
What furious sleet, with level drift, and fierce assaults of hail!
What darksome caverns yawned before! what jagged steeps behind!
Like battle steeds with foamy manes wild tossing in the wind.
Each after each sank down astern, exhausted in the chase,
But where it sank another rose, and galloped in its place;
As black as night—they turned to white, and cast against the cloud