4o.
[[342]]
white] rough 4o.
[[361]]
and] or 4o.
[[366-7]]
The Sea meantime his Billows darkest roll'd,
And each stain'd wave dash'd on the shore a corse.
4o.
[[369-72]]
His hideous features blended with the mist,
The long black locks of Slaughter. Peace beheld
And o'er the plain