Line 101.
Built in the eclipse and rigged with curses dark.
Line 109.
The pilot of the Galilean lake.
Line 168.
So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed,
And yet anon repairs his drooping head,
And tricks his beams, with new spangled ore
Flames in the forehead of the morning sky.
Line 198.
To-morrow to fresh woods and pastures new.