The shuddering seas and foams along the main;
And her eased breath, when her wild race is run,
Roars thro’ her nostrils like a hurricane.
28
A thousand times hath in my heart’s behoof
My tongue been set his passion to impart;
A thousand times hath my too coward heart
My mouth reclosed and fix’d it to the roof;
Then with such cunning hath it held aloof,
A thousand times kept silence with such art