He goes, like the "boisterous sea" (vide HADYN!)
"Upheaved from the deep," swift, tremendous,
Leviathan sports on the far-foaming wave.
If he runs athwart us, what power shall save,
From the doom to which promptly he'd send us?
His "soundings," or "diggings," are many and deep;
But would that his "three-hundred fathoms" he'd keep,
Below in the ocean's cold quiet.
But no, not at all; he's not that sort of whale!
He must breathe, he must blow, he must roar, till the gale