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- <poem>
With massy trident high, he heaves Her sliding keel above the waves; Opening his liquid arms to take The bold invader in his wreck.
See how she dives into his chest! Whilst raising up his floating breast, To clasp her in; he makes her rise Out of the reach of his surprise.
Nearer she comes, and still doth sweep The azure surface of the deep; And now at last the waves have thrown Their rider on our Albion.
Under the black cliff's spumy base, The sea-sick hulk her freight displays; And as she walloweth on the sand, Vomits her burden to the land.
With heads erect and plying oar, The shipwrecked mates make to the shore; And dreadless of their danger, climb The floating mountains of the brine.
Hark! hark! the noise their echo makes, The islands, silver waves to shake; Sure with these throws the labouring main Is delivered of a hurricane.
And see the seas becalmed behind, Not crispt with any breeze of wind; The tempest has forsook the waves, And on land begins his braves.
- <poem>
