The porpoise rolling on the troubled wave,
Unwieldy tokens of his pleasure gave;
Dark, chilling clouds the troubled deep deform,
And, led by terror downward, rush’d the storm.
As evening came, along the river’s side,
Or on the quay, impatient crowds divide, 210
And then collect; some whispering, as afraid
Of what they saw, and more of what they said,
And yet must speak: how sudden and how great
The danger seem’d, and what might be the fate