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Coralline:—bivalves strewn o’er sands of gold,
Whose iris sheen at every moment varies,—
’Tis like a glance on some bright haunt of fairies.
But yestreen’s storm which with the Muses’ Ark
So many a proud hope at one blow had shattered
Left ’mid those beauties, its dread power to mark,
More than one piteous trace at random scattered.
Upon the beach a medley strange is strewn
Heaped up in sand and hither, thither bandied
By force of waves and salt surf spoiled and stranded,
Lie chest, case, hamper in disorder thrown.
And in the sea itself, a stone’s throw farther,
Lo! by the splintered reefs and crags surrounded,
That blacken where the snowy foam-wreaths gather,
Half fallen on one side the ship’s hull grounded.
Hark! ’tis as though above the wooded reach
Some sudden squall has burst with hundred guns,
And hurrying near and nearer to the beach
With gathering roar of crackling branches, runs:
And in that din may be distinguished cries
And yells from numerous throats: now, high in air
Above the palms the frighted parrot flies,
A tulip of the clouds, and vibrates there
Its Iris plumes: from leafy covert lair
An ape has sprung and down its tree trunk stair
Slid lightning-like to earth: behind him follow,
One, two, three, four: whole packs in full cry hollow;
Now from the brakes of pleated leaves is spilling
A perfect cloud of these wild apish swarms,
Down the lianas jerked, as if distilling
A waterfall of fawn-furred pygmy forms.
Each to the chests and packing cases scampers,
