Th’ o’erwhelming moisture, heave their brow sublime.

The liquid troops, obedient to Thy voice,

Fled to the appointed station. Thou a bound

Hast set, they cannot pass; nor ever spread

Their flowing mantle o’er th’ invested earth:

Thou to the sea sayest,—Hitherto advance,

And here thy proud licentious waves be stayed.

George Bally.

How oft the ruddy cheek will pale

To leave the earth behind!