And lo! the leaks o’er all their powers prevail:
Yet at their post, by terrors unsubdued,
They with redoubling force their task pursued.
And now the senior pilots seemed to wait
Arion’s voice, to close the dark debate:
Not o’er his vernal life the ripening sun
Had yet, progressive, twice ten summers run;
Slow to debate, yet eager to excel,
In thy sad school, stern Neptune! taught too well:
With lasting pain to rend his youthful heart