So, steady! meet her! watch the curving prow,
And from the gale directly let her go.”
“Starboard again!” the watchful pilot cries,
“Starboard!” th’ obedient timoneer replies:
Then back to port, revolving at command,
The wheel rolls swiftly through each glowing hand.
The ship no longer, foundering by the lee,
Bears on her side the invasions of the sea;
All lonely o’er the desert waste she flies,
Scourged on by surges, storms, and bursting skies: