Round the charged bowl the sailors form a ring;
By turns recount the wondrous tale, or sing,
As love, or battle, hardships of the main,
Or genial wine, awake the homely strain:
Then some the watch of night alternate keep,
The rest lie buried in oblivious sleep.
Deep midnight now involves the livid skies,
When eastern breezes, yet enervate, rise;
The waning moon behind a watery shroud
Pale glimmered o’er the long protracted cloud;