Tries his last art the tottering state to save,
Or in its ruins find a glorious grave.
Still in the yawning trough the vessel reels,
Ingulphed beneath two fluctuating hills;
On either side they rise, tremendous scene!
A long dark melancholy vale between:
The balanced ship now forward, now behind, }
Still felt th’ impression of the waves and wind, }
And to the right and left by turns inclin’d; }
But Albert from behind the balance drew,