Where toils succeeding toils our strength o’erpower!
Our bark, ’tis true, no shelter here can find,
Sore shattered by the ruffian seas and wind:
Yet where with safety can we dare to scud
Before this tempest, and pursuing flood?
At random driven, to present death we haste,
And one short hour perhaps may be our last:
Though Corinth’s gulf extend along the lee,
To whose safe ports appears a passage free,
Yet think! this furious unremitting gale