Wav’d, as the night-blast swept them; and along
The rocky shore the breakers, sounding low
Seem’d like the whisp’ring of a million souls
Beneath the green-deep mourning.
Four long hours
The lorn Boy listen’d! four long tedious hours
Pass’d wearily away, when, in the East
The grey beam coldly glimmer’d. All alone
Young Henry stood aghast: his Eye wide fix’d;
While his dark locks, uplifted by the storm