The carcase of the slumbering mate.
Facing to a starboard beam
Tim put to flight the seaman’s dream,
Discharging thrice, in accents dread,
Yells that almost might wake the dead;
Till the toss’d blankets part asunder,
And forth these sullen grumblings thunder.
Mate. What rascal with his thumps and screaming
Dares break the quiet of my dreaming?