A boiling ocean of mix’d black and green,

A sky of copper colour, grim and surly,—

When lo, in that vast hollow scoop’d between

Two rolling Alps of water,—white and curly!

We saw a pair of little arms a-skimming,

Much like a first or last attempt at swimming!

Sometimes a hand—sometimes a little shoe—

Sometimes a skirt—sometimes a hank of hair,

Just like a dabbled seaweed, rose to view,