Lift the fair sail, and cheat th' experienced eye[38].
Be it the summer-noon: a sandy space
The ebbing tide has left upon its place;
Then, just the hot and stony beach above,
Light twinkling streams in bright confusion move
(For heated thus, the warmer air ascends,
And with the cooler in its fall contends);
Then the broad bosom of the ocean keeps
180
An equal motion, swelling as it sleeps,