Unusual terrors shook the master’s heart,
When, on th’ immediate line of drift, he found
The rugged isle, with rocks and breakers bound,
Of Falconera; distant only now
Nine lessening leagues beneath the leeward bow;
For, if on those destructive shallows tost,
The helpless bark with all her crew are lost;
As fatal still appears, that danger o’er,
The steep St. George, and rocky Gardalor.
With him the pilots, of their hopeless state,