What age and sickness, for a man so bold,
Had done, we know not—none beheld him old.
820
By night, as business urged, he sought the wood—
The ditch was deep—the rain had caused a flood—
The foot-bridge fail'd—he plunged beneath the deep,
And slept, if truth were his, th' eternal sleep.
These have we named; on life's rough sea they sail,
With many a prosperous, many an adverse gale!
Where passion soon, like powerful winds, will rage,