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Bewilder'd on his lonely way.
When, loud and keen and chill,
The evening winds of winter blow,
Drifting deep the dismal snow.
When, loud and keen and chill,
The evening winds of winter blow,
Drifting deep the dismal snow.
Or if thou followest now on Groenland's shore,
With all thy terrors, on the lonely way
Of some wreck'd mariner, when to the roar
Of herded bears, the floating ice-hills round
Pour their deep echoing sound,
And by the dim drear Boreal light
Givest half his dangers to the wretch's sight.
With all thy terrors, on the lonely way
Of some wreck'd mariner, when to the roar
Of herded bears, the floating ice-hills round
Pour their deep echoing sound,
And by the dim drear Boreal light
Givest half his dangers to the wretch's sight.
Or if thy fury form,
When o'er the midnight deep
The dark-wing'd tempests sweep
Watches from some high cliff the encreasing storm,
Listening with strange delight,
As the black billows to the thunder rave
When by the lightning's light
Thou seest the tall ship sink beneath the wave.
When o'er the midnight deep
The dark-wing'd tempests sweep
Watches from some high cliff the encreasing storm,
Listening with strange delight,
As the black billows to the thunder rave
When by the lightning's light
Thou seest the tall ship sink beneath the wave.
