Of mighty moment, to this age unknown;
Thou must not dally, or the tempest fear,
But fly by morn into the forest drear.
LXVII.
“‘Thou art to voyage an unexploréd flood,
No chart is there thy lonely bark to steer;
Beneath her rocks, around her tempests rude,
And persecution’s billows in her rear,
Shall shake thy soul till it is near subdued;