O’erpowered they yield to cruel fate at length
The burying waters close around their head,
They sink! for ever numbered with the dead.
Those who remain the weather shrouds embrace,
Nor longer mourn their lost companions’ case;
Transfixt with terror at th’ approaching doom,
Self pity in their breasts alone has room:
Albert, and Rodmond, and Palemon, near
With young Arion, on the mast appear;
E’en they, amid th’ unspeakable distress,