The son he throttled his father gray,
And tore the spar from his clutch away,
Till he sank beneath the wave;
And deemed it were a noble sight.
I saw upon a shattered wreck
All swinging at the tempest’s beck,
A mother lone, whose frenzied eye
Wandered in hopeless agony
O’er that vast plain where naught was seen,
The ocean and the sky between,