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!