Had roll'd in view of boding men on shore;
And sometimes hid, and sometimes show'd, his form,
Dark as the cloud, and furious as the storm.
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All where the eye delights, yet dreads, to roam,
The breaking billows cast the flying foam
Upon the billows rising—all the deep
Is restless change; the waves so swell'd and steep,
Breaking and sinking, and the sunken swells,
Nor one, one moment, in its station dwells.