Th’ impelling floods, that lash her to the shore:
High o’er the poop th’ audacious seas aspire,
Uprolled in hills of fluctuating fire;
With lab’ring throes she rolls on either side,
And dips her gunnels in the yawning tide;
Her joints unhinged in palsied languors play,
As ice-flakes part beneath the noon-tide ray:
The gale howls doleful through the blocks and shrouds,
And big rain pours a deluge from the clouds;
From wintery magazines that sweep the sky,