Of things corporeal on his passive mind,
He judgeth what is fair. Corporeal things
The mind of man impel with various powers,
And various features to his eye disclose.

625

The powers which move his sense with instant joy,
The features which attract his heart to love,
He marks, combines, reposits. Other powers
And features of the self-same thing (unless

The beauteous form, the creature of his mind, 630
Request their close alliance) he o'erlooks
Forgotten; or with self beguiling zeal,
Whene'er his passions mingle in the work,
Half alters, half disowns. The tribes of mer.

Thus from their different functions and the shapes
Familiar to their eye, with art obtain,
Unconscious of their purpose, yet with art
Obtain the beauty fitting man to love;

680

Exulting. Straight, as travellers by night [sphere,
Turn toward a distant flame, so some fit eye,
Among the various tenants of the scene,
Discerns the heaven-born phantom seated there,
And owns her charms. Hence the wide universe,
Through all the seasons of revolving worlds,
Bears witness with its people, gods and men,
To beauty's blissful power, and with the voice 685
Of grateful admiration still resounds:
That voice, to which is beauty's frame divine
As is the cunning of the master's hand
To the sweet accent of the well-tuned lyre.

Genius of ancient Greece, whose faithful steps Have led us to these awful solitudes

636

Of nature and of science; nurse revered

645

His mind's high aid, to purify the form
From matter's gross communion; to secure
For ever, from the meddling hand of change
Or rude decay, her features; and to add
Whatever ornaments may suit her mien,
Where'er he finds them scatter'd through the paths
Of nature or of fortune. Then he seats
The accomplish'd image deep within his breast,
Reviews it, and accounts it good and fair.

Thus the one beauty of the world entire,
The universal Venus, far beyond
The keenest effort of created eyes,

And their most wide horizon, dwells enthroned
In ancient silence. At her footstool stands
An altar burning with eternal fire
Unsullied, unconsumed. Here every hour,
Here every moment, in their turns arrive

Her offspring; an innumerable band

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695

Of generous counsels and heroic deeds;
O! let some portion of thy matchless praise
Dwell in my breast, and teach me to adorn
This unattempted theme. Nor be my thoughts
Presumptuous counted, if amid the calm
Which Hesper sheds along the vernal heaven,
If I, from vulgar superstition's walk
Impatient steal, and from the unseemly rites 700
Of splendid adulation, to attend
With hymns thy presence in the sylvan shade,
By their malignant footsteps unprofaned.
Come, O renowned power; thy glowing mien
Such, and so elevated all thy form,
As when the great barbaric lord, again

705

655

660

711

715

Ilissus, by Socratic sounds detain'd,

720

On his neglected urn attentive lay;

Of sisters, comely all; but differing far
In age, in stature, and expressive mien,
More than bright Helen from her new-born babe.
To this maternal shrine in turns they come,
Each with her sacred lamp; that from the source
Of living flame, which here immortal flows,
Their portions of its lustre they may draw
For days, or months, or years; for ages, some;
As their great parent's discipline requires.
Then to their several mansions they depart,
In stars, in planets, through the unknown shores
Of yon ethereal ocean. Who can tell
Even on the surface of this rolling earth,
How many make abode? The fields, the groves,
The winding rivers and the azure main,
Are render'd solemn by their frequent feet,
Their rites sublime. There each her destined

670

665

While Boreas, lingering on the neighbouring steep With beauteous Orithyia, his love-tale

In silent awe suspended. There let me

With blameless hand, from thy unenvious fields, 725
Transplant some living blossoms, to adorn

My native clime: while, far beyond the meed
Of fancy's toil aspiring, Í unlock

The springs of ancient wisdom: while I add

(What cannot be disjoin'd from beauty's praise) 730

Thy name and native dress, thy works beloved
And honour'd: while to my compatriot youth
I point the great example of thy sons,
And tune to Attic themes the British lyre.

THUS far of beauty and the pleasing forms Which man's untutor'd fancy, from the scenes Imperfect of this ever-changing world,

5

Creates; and views, enamour'd. Now my song
Severer themes demand: mysterious truth;
And virtue, sovran good: the spells, the trains,
The progeny of error: the dread sway
Of passion; and whatever hidden stores
From her own lofty deeds and from herself
The mind acquires. Severer argument:
Not less attractive; nor deserving less
A constant ear. For what are all the forms
Educed by fancy from corporeal things,
Greatness, or pomp, or symmetry of parts?
Not tending to the heart, soon feeble grows,
As the blunt arrow 'gainst the knotty trunk,
Their impulse on the sense: while the pall'd eye
Expects in vain its tribute; asks in vain,
Where are the ornaments it once admired?
Not so the moral species, nor the powers
Of passion and of thought. The ambitious mind
With objects boundless as her own desires
Can there converse: by these unfading forms
Touch'd and awaken'd still, with eager act
She bends each nerve, and meditates well pleased
Her gifts, her godlike fortune. Such the scenes 26
Now opening round us. May the destined verse
Maintain its equal tenor, though in tracts
Obscure and arduous. May the Source of light,
All-present, all-sufficient, guide our steps
Through every maze; and whom in childish years
From the loud throng, the beaten paths of wealth
And power, thou didst apart send forth to speak
In tuneful words concerning highest things,
Him still do thou, O Father, at those hours
Of pensive freedom, when the human soul
Shuts out the rumour of the world, him still
Touch thou with secret lessons: call thou back
Each erring thought; and let the yielding strains
From his full bosom, like a welcome rill
Spontaneous from its healthy fountain, flow.

Hath fate imparted : but to man alone Of sublunary beings was it given

50

10

15

20

Each fleeting impulse on the sensual powers
At leisure to review; with equal eye
To scan the passion of the stricken nerve
Or the vague object striking: to conduct
From sense, the portal turbulent and loud,
Into the mind's wide palace one by one
The frequent, pressing, fluctuating forms,
And question and compare them. Thus he learns
Their birth and fortunes; how allied they haunt
The avenues of sense; what laws direct
Their union; and what various discords rise,
Or fix'd or casual: which when his clear thought
Retains, and when his faithful words express
That living image of the external scene,
As in a polish'd mirror held to view,
Is truth: where'er it varies from the shape
And hue of its exemplar, in that part
Dim error lurks. Moreover, from without
When oft the same society of forms

55

61

65

70

35

40

But from what name, what favourable sign, What heavenly auspice, rather shall I date My perilous excursion, than from truth, That nearest inmate of the human soul; Estranged from whom, the countenance divine Of man disfigured and dishonour'd sinks Among inferior things? For to the brutes Perception and the transient boons of sense

In the same order have approach'd his mind,
He deigns no more their steps with curious heed
To trace; no more their features or their garb
He now examines; but of them and their
Condition, as with some diviner's tongue,
Affirms what heaven in every distant place,
Through every future season, will decree.
This too is truth: Where'er his prudent lips
Wait till experience diligent and slow
Has authorized their sentence, this is truth;
A second, higher kind: the parent this
Of science; or the lofty power herself,
Science herself: on whom the wants and cares
Of social life depend; the substitute
Of God's own wisdom in this toilsome world;
The providence of man. Yet oft in vain,
To earn her aid, with fix'd and anxious eye
He looks on nature's and on fortune's course:
Too much in vain. His duller visual ray
The stillness and the persevering acts
Of nature oft elude; and fortune oft
With step fantastic from her wonted walk
Turns into mazes dim. His sight is foil'd;

75

80

85

90

30

135

Secure, unshaken, still; and whence he views,
In matter's mouldering structures, the pure forms
Of triangle or circle, cube or cone,
Impassive all: whose attributes nor force
Nor fate can alter. There he first conceives
True being, and an intellectual world

140

The same this hour and ever. Thence he deems
Of his own lot; above the painted shapes
That fleeting move o'er this terrestrial scene
Looks up; beyond the adamantine gates
Of death expatiates: as his birthright claims
Inheritance in all the works of God:
Prepares for endless time his plan of life,
And counts the universe itself his home.

145

Which feed thy mind and exercise her powers, Partake the relish of their native soil,

.

100

105

110

Their parent earth. But know, a nobler dower
Her sire at birth decreed her; purer gifts
From his own treasure; forms which never deign'd
In eyes or ears to dwell, within the sense
Of earthly organs; but sublime were placed
In his essential reason, leading there
That vast ideal host which all his works
Through endless ages never will reveal.
Thus then endow'd, the feeble creature man,
The slave of hunger and the prey of death.
Even now, even here, in earth's dim prison bound,
The language of intelligence divine
Attains; repeating oft concerning one
And many, pass'd and present, parts and whole,
Those sovran dictates which in farthest heaven, 115
Where no orb rolls, eternity's fix'd ear
Hears from coeval truth, which chance or change,
Nature's loud progeny, nor nature's self
Dares intermeddle or approach her throne.
Ere long, o'er this corporeal world he earns
To extend her sway; while calling from the deep,
From earth and air, their multitudes untold
Of figures and of motions round his walk,
For each wide family some single birth
He sets in view, the impartial type of all
Its brethren; suffering it to claim, beyond
Their common heritage, no private gift,
No proper fortune. Then whate'er his eye
In this discerns, his bold, unerring tongue
Pronounceth of the kindred, without bound,
Without condition. Such the rise of forms
Sequester'd far from sense and every spot
Peculiar in the realms of space or time:
Such is the throne which man for truth amid
The paths of mutability hath built

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130

201

205

For (if a mortal tongue may speak of him And his dread ways) even as his boundless eye, Connecting every form and every change, Beholds the perfect beauty; so his will, Through every hour producing good to all The family of creatures, is itself The perfect virtue. Let the grateful swain Remember this, as oft with joy and praise He looks upon the falling dews which clothe His lawns with verdure, and the tender seed Nourish within his furrows: when between Dead seas and burning skies, where long unmoved The bark had languish'd, now a rustling gale 211 Lifts o'er the fickle waves her dancing prow, Let the glad pilot, bursting out in thanks, Remember this: lest blind o'erweening pride Pollute their offerings: let their selfish heart 215 Say to the heavenly Ruler, "At our call Relents thy power: by us thy arm is moved." Fools! who of God as of each other deem: Who his invariable acts deduce

225

From sudden counsels transient as their own; 220
Nor farther of his bounty, than the event
Which haply meets their loud and eager prayer,
Acknowledge; nor, beyond the drop minute
Which haply they have tasted, heed the source
That flows for all; the fountain of his love
Which, from the summit where he sits enthroned,
Pours health and joy, unfailing streams, throughout
The spacious region flourishing in view,
The goodly work of his eternal day,
His own fair universe; on which alone
His counsels fix, and whence alone his will
Assumes her strong direction.
His sovran purpose: such it was before
All multitude of years. For his right arm
Was never idle: his bestowing love
Knew no beginning; was not as a change
Of mood that woke at last and started up
After a deep and solitary sloth

230

Such is now

235

On every walk of this our social scene,
Adorning for the eye of gods and men
The passions, actions, habitudes of life,
And rendering earth like heaven, a sacred place
Where love and praise may take delight to dwell?
Let none with heedless tongue from truth disjoin
The reign of virtue. Ere the dayspring flow'd,
Like sisters link'd in concord's golden chain,
They stood before the great eternal Mind,
Their common parent; and by him were both
Sent forth among his creatures, hand in hand,
Inseparably join'd: nor e'er did truth
Find an apt ear to listen to her lore,

Which knew not virtue's voice; nor, save where
Majestic words are heard and understood, [truth's
Doth virtue deign to inhabit. Go, inquire,
Of nature not among Tartarian rocks,
Whither the hungry vulture with its prey
Returns: not where the lion's sullen roar
At noon resounds along the lonely banks
Of ancient Tigris: but her gentler scenes,
The dove-cote and the shepherd's fold at morn,
Consult; or by the meadow's fragrant hedge, 175
In spring-time when the woodlands first are green,
Attend the linnet singing to his mate

Couch'd o'er their tender young. To this fond care
Thou dost not virtue's honourable name
Attribute: wherefore, save that not one gleam 180
Of truth did e'er discover to themselves
Their little hearts, or teach them, by the effects
Of that parental love, the love itself)
To judge, and measure its officious deeds?
But man, whose eyelids truth has fill'd with day,
Discerns how skilfully to bounteous ends
His wise affections move; with free accord
Adopts their guidance; yields himself secure
To nature's prudent impulse; and converts

155

To fill the void below. As flame ascends,
As vapours to the earth in showers return,
As the poised ocean toward the attracting moon
Swells, and the ever-listening planets charm'd
By the sun's call their onward pace incline,
So all things which have life aspire to God,
Exhaustless fount of intellectual day,
Centre of souls. Nor doth the mastering voice
Of nature cease within to prompt aright
Their steps: nor is the care of heaven withheld
From sending to the toil external aid,
That in their stations all may persevere
To climb the ascent of being, and approach
For ever nearer to the life divine.

265

270

273

But this eternal fabric was not raised

For man's inspection. Though to some be given

With all their duties: hence that favourite palm
Of human will, when duty is sufficed,
And still the liberal soul in ampler deeds
Would manifest herself; that sacred sign
Of her revered affinity to him

295

300

305

310

315

Whose bounties are his own; to whom none said,
"Create the wisest, fullest, fairest world,
And make its offspring happy;" who, intent
Some likeness of himself among his works
To view, hath pour'd into the human breast
A ray of knowledge and of love, which guides
Earth's feeble race to act their Maker's part
Self-judging, self-obliged: while, from before
That godlike function, the gigantic power
Necessity, though wont to curb the force
Of Chaos and the savage elements,
Retires abash'd, as from a scene too high
For her brute tyranny, and with her bears
Her scorned followers, terror, and base awe
Who blinds herself, and that ill-suited pair,
Obedience link'd with hatred. Then the soul
Arises in her strength; and looking round
Her busy sphere, whatever work she views,
Whatever counsel bearing any trace
Of her Creator's likeness, whether apt
To aid her fellows or preserve herself
In her superior functions unimpair'd,
Thither she turns exulting: that she claims
As her peculiar good: on that, through all
The fickle seasons of the day, she looks
With reverence still: to that, as to a fence
Against affliction and the darts of pain,
Her drooping hopes repair: and, once opposed
To that, all other pleasure, other wealth
Vile, as the dross upon the molten gold,
Appears, and loathsome as the briny sea
To him who languishes with thirst and sighs
For some known fountain pure. For what can strive
With virtue? Which of nature's regions vast 330
Can in so many forms produce to sight
Such powerful beauty? beauty, which the eye
Of hatred cannot look upon secure :
Which envy's self contemplates, and is turn'd
Ere long to tenderness, to infant smiles,
Or tears of humblest love. Is ought so fair

In all the dewy landscapes of the spring,
The summer's noontide groves, the purple eve
At harvest-home, or in the frosty moon

the paths

For lo the tyrant prostrate on the dust,
And Rome again is free? Thus, through
Of human life, in various pomp array'd
Walks the wise daughter of the judge of heaven, 375
Fair virtue; from her father's throne supreme
Sent down to utter laws, such as on earth
Most apt he knew, most powerful to promote
The weal of all his works, the gracious end
of his dread empire. And though haply man's 380
Obscurer sight, so far beyond himself
And the brief labours of his little home,
Extends not; yet, by the bright presence won
Of this divine instructress, to her sway
Pleased he assents, nor heeds the distant goal
To which her voice conducts him. Thus hath God,
Still looking toward Lis own high purpose, fix'd
The virtues of his creatures; thus he rules
The parent's fondness and the patriot's zeal ;
Thus the warm sense of honour and of shame; 390
The vows of gratitude, the faith of love;
And all the comely intercourse of praise,
The joy of human life, the earthly heaven.

How far unlike them must the lot of guilt
Be found or what terrestrial wo can match
The self-convicted bosom, which hath wrought
The bane of others or enslaved itself
With shackles vile? Not poison, nor sharp fire,
Nor the worst pangs that ever monkish hate
Suggested, or despotic rage imposed,

385

395

400

Were at that season an unwish'd exchange:
When the soul loathes herself: when, flying thence
To crowds, on every brow she sees portray'd
Fell demons, hate or scorn, which drive her back
To solitude, her Judge's voice divine
To hear in secret, haply sounding through
The troubled dreams of midnight, and still, still
Demanding for his violated laws

405

415

320

325

Fit recompense, or charging her own tongue
To speak the award of justice on herself.
For well she knows what faithful hints within
Were whisper'd, to beware the lying forms
Which turn'd her footsteps from the safer way:
What cautions to suspect their painted dress,
And look with steady eyelid on their smiles,
Their frowns, their tears. In vain. The dazzling

410

Glittering on some smooth sea, is aught so fair 340
As virtuous friendship? as the honour'd roof
Whither from highest heaven immortal Love
His torch ethereal and his golden bow
Propitious brings, and there a temple holds
To whose unspotted service gladly vow'd
The social band of parent, brother, child,
With smiles and sweet discourse and gentle deeds
Adore his power? what gift of richest clime
E'er drew such eager eyes, or prompted such
Deep wishes, as the zeal that snatcheth back
From slander's poisonous tooth a foe's renown;
Or crosseth danger in his lion walk,
A rival's life to rescue? as the young

345

prayers

350

355

Athenian warrior sitting down in bonds,
That his great father's body might not want
A peaceful, humble tomb the Roman wife
Teaching her lord how harmless was the wound
Of death, how impotent the tyrant's rage,
Who nothing more could threaten to afflict⚫
Their faithful love? Or is there in the abyss, 360
Is there, among the adamantine spheres
Wheeling unshaken through the boundless void,
Aught that with half such majesty can fill
The human bosom, as when Brutus rose
Refulgent from the stroke of Cæsar's fate,
Amid the crowd of patriots; and, his arm
Aloft extending like eternal Jove

365

When guilt brings down the thunder, call'd aloud
On Tully's name, and shook the crimson sword
Of justice in his rapt, astonish'd eye,
And bade the father of his country hail,

370

One homebred colour: which not all the lights
Of science e'er shall change; not all the storms 455
Of adverse fortune wash away, nor yet

The robe of purest virtue quite conceal.
Thence on they pass, where meeting frequent shapes
Of good and evil, cunning phantoms apt

To fire or freeze the breast, with them they join 460

Most tender, with affliction's sacred tears,
Beseech his aid; though gratitude and faith
Condemn each step which loiters; yet let none
Make answer for him that, if any frown
Of danger thwart his path, he will not stay,
Content, and be a wretch to be secure.
Here vice begins then: at the gate of life,
Ere the young multitude to diverse roads
Part, like fond pilgrims on a journey unknown,
Sits fancy, deep enchantress; and to each
With kind maternal looks presents her bowl,
A potent beverage. Heedless they comply:
Till the whole soul from that mysterious draught
Is tinged, and every transient thought imbibes
Of gladness or disgust, desire or fear

440

445

450

In dangerous parley; listening oft, and oft
Gazing with reckless passion, while its garb
The spectre heightens, and its pompous tale
Repeats with some new circumstance to suit
That early tincture of the hearer's soul.
And should the guardian, reason, but for one
Short moment yield to this illusive scene
His ear and eye, the intoxicating charm
Involves him, till no longer he discerns,
Or only guides to err. Then revel forth

A furious band that spurn him from the throne,
And all is uproar. Hence ambition climbs
With sliding feet and hands impure, to grasp
Those solemn toys which glitter in his view

465

470

On fortune's rugged steep: hence pale revenge 475 Unsheaths her murderous dagger: rapine hence And envious lust, by venal fraud upborne, Surmount the reverend barrier of the laws

Which kept them from their prey: hence all the crines

That e'er defiled the earth, and all the plagues 480
That follow them for vengeance, in the guise
Of honour, safety, pleasure, ease or pomp,
Stole first into the fond, believing mind.

Yet not by fancy's witchcraft on the brain Are always the tumultuous passions driven To guilty deeds, nor reason bound in chains That vice alone may lord it. Oft, adorn'd With motley pageants, folly mounts his throne, And plays her idiot antics, like a queen.

485

495

A thousand garbs she wears: a thousand ways 490
She whirls her giddy empire. Lo, thus far
With bold adventure to the Mantuan lyre
I sing for contemplation link'd with love
A pensive theme. Now haply should my song
Unbend that serious countenance, and learn
Thalia's tripping gait, her shrill-toned voice,
Her wiles familiar: whether scorn she darts
In wanton ambush from her lip or eye,
Or whether with a sad disguise of care
O'ermantling her gay brow, she acts in sport
The deeds of folly, and from all sides round
Calls forth impetuous laughter's gay rebuke;
Her province. But through every comic scene
To lead my Muse with her light pencil arm'd;
Through every swift occasion which the hand 505
Of laughter points at, when the mirthful sting
Distends her labouring sides and chokes her tongue;
Were endless as to sound each grating note
With which the rooks, and chattering daws, and

grave

500

510

Unwieldy inmates of the village pond,
The changing seasons of the sky proclaim;
Sun, cloud, or shower. Suffice it to have said,
Where'er the power of ridicule displays
Her quaint-eyed visage, some incongruous form,
Some stubborn dissonance of things combined, 515.
Strikes on her quick perception: whether pomp,
Or praise, or beauty be dragg'd in and shown
Where sordid fashions, where ignoble deeds,
Where foul deformity is wont to dwell;

521

Or whether these with shrewd and wayward spite
Invade resplendent pomp's imperious mien,
The charms of beauty, or the boast of praise.

Ask we for what fair end the almighty Sire
In mortal bosoms stirs this gay contempt,
These grateful pangs of laughter; from disgust 525
Educing pleasure? Wherefore, but to aid
The tardy steps of reason, and at once
By this prompt impulse urge us to depress
Wild folly's aims? For though the sober light

Of truth slow-dawning on the watchful mind 530
At length unfolds, through many a subtile tie,
How these uncouth disorders end at last
In public evil; yet benignant heaven,
Conscious how dim the dawn of truth appears
To thousands, conscious what a scanty pause 535
From labour and from care the wider lot
Of humble life affords for studious thought
To scan the maze of nature, therefore stamp'd
These glaring scenes with characters of scorn,
As broad, as obvious to the passing clown
As to the letter'd sage's curious eye.

540

The path of her inexorable wheels,

555

While she pursues the work that must be done
Thro' ocean, earth, and air. Hence frequent forms
Of wo; the merchant, with his wealthy bark, 551
Buried by dashing waves; the traveller
Pierced by the pointed lightning in his haste;
And the poor husbandman, with folded arms,
Surveying his lost labours, and a heap
Of blasted chaff the product of the field
Whence he expected bread. But worse than these
I deem, far worse, that other race of ills
Which human kind rear up among themselves,
That horrid offspring which misgovern'd will 560
Bears to fantastic error; vices, crimes,
Furies that curse the earth, and make the blows,
The heaviest blows, of nature's innocent hand
Seem sport; which are indeed but as the care
Of a wise parent, who solicits good
To all her house, though haply at the price
Of tears and froward wailing and reproach
From some unthinking child, whom not the less
Its mother destines to be happy still.

565

These sources then of pain, this double lot 570 Of evil in the inheritance of man, Required for his protection no slight force, No careless watch. And therefore was his breast Fenced round with passions quick to be alarm'd, Or stubborn to oppose; with fear, more swift 575 Than beacons catching flaine from hill to hill, Where armies land: with anger, uncontroll'd As the young lion bounding on his prey; With sorrow that locks up the struggling heart, And shame, that overcasts the drooping eye As with a cloud of lightning. These the part Perform of eager monitors, and goad The soul more sharply than with points of steel, Her enemies to shun or to resist,

580

584

And as those passions, that converse with good,
Are good themselves; as hope and love and joy,
Among the fairest and the sweetest boons
Of life, we rightly count: to these, which guard
Against invading evil, still excite
589

Some pain, some tumult: these, within the mind
Too oft admitted or too long retain'd,

Shock their frail seat, and by their uncurbed rage
To savages more fell than Libya breeds
Transform themselves: till human thought be-

Their temper void of comfort, though in pain? 605
Who knows not with what majesty divine
The forms of truth and justice to the mind
Appear, ennobling oft the sharpest wo
With triumph and rejoicing? who, that bears
A human bosom, hath not often felt
How dear are all those ties wnich bind our race
In gentleness together, and how sweet
Their force, let fortune's wayward hand the while
Be kind or cruel? Ask the faithful youth
Why the cold urn of her whom long he loved, 615
So often fills his arms; so often draws
His lonely footsteps, silent and unseen,
To pay the mournful tribute of his tears?
Oh! he will tell thee that the wealth of worlds
Should ne'er seduce his bosom to forego
Those sacred hours when stealing from the noise
Of care and envy, sweet remembrance soothes
With virtue's kindest looks his aching breast,
And turns his tears to rapture? Ask the crowd,
Which flies impatient from the village walk
To climb the neighbouring cliffs, when far below
The savage winds have hurl'd upon the coast
Some helpless bark; while holy pity melts
The general eye, or terror's icy hand

620

625

Smites their distorted limbs and horrent hair; 630
While every mother closer to her breast
Catcheth her child, and, pointing where the waves
Foam through the shatter'd vessel, shrieks aloud
As one poor wretch, who spreads his piteous

arms

C