Hadst thou, Arion! held the leeward post
While on the yard by mountain billows tost,
Perhaps Oblivion o’er our tragic tale
Had then for ever drawn her dusky veil;
But ruling Heaven prolonged thy vital date,
Severer ills to suffer, and relate.
For, while aloft the order those attend
To furl the mainsail, or on deck descend;
A sea, upsurging with stupendous roll,
To instant ruin seems to doom the whole: