And all the scene an hostile aspect wore.
The flattering wind, that late with promised aid
From Candia’s bay th’ unwilling ship betray’d,
No longer fawns beneath the fair disguise,
But like a ruffian on his quarry flies;
Tost on the tide she feels the tempest blow,
And dreads the vengeance of so fell a foe—
As the proud horse with costly trappings gay,
Exulting, prances to the bloody fray;
Spurning the ground he glories in his might,