With a strange phosphoric light.
Lo, the sea-fowl, loudly screaming,
Seeks the shelter of the land;
And a signal light is gleaming
Where yon vesel nears the strand:
Just at sun-set she was lying
All-becalmed upon the main;
Now, with sails in tatters flying,
She to sea-ward beats—in vain!
Now the forest trees are shaking,