As if through a dungeon-grate he peer'd,
With broad and burning face.
"' Alas!' (thought I, and my heart beat loud)
' How fast she nears and nears!
Are those her sails that glance in the sun,
Like restless gossameres?
"'Are those her ribs through which the sun
Did peer, as through a grate?
And is that Woman all her crew?
Is that a Death? and are there two?