Then baffling, a long course of them; and last
Storm, such as drove her under moonless heavens
Till hard upon the cry of ‘breakers’ came
The crash of ruin, and the loss of all
But Enoch and two others. Half the night, 550
Buoy’d upon floating tackle and broken spars,
These drifted, stranding on an isle at morn
Rich, but the loneliest in a lonely sea.
No want was there of human sustenance,
Soft fruitage, mighty nuts, and nourishing roots; 555