The shipwreck, a poem

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C. Townson, 1803 - English poetry - 96 pages

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Page 142 - Again she plunges ! hark ! a second shock Tears her strong bottom on the marble rock : Down on the vale of death, with dismal cries, The fated victims, shuddering, roll their eyes In wild despair ; while yet another stroke, With deep convulsion, rends the solid oak ; Till like the mine, in whose infernal cell The lurking demons of destruction dwell, At length asunder torn her frame divides, And, crashing, spreads in ruin o'er the tides.
Page 162 - What though no funeral pomp, no borrow'd tear, Your hour of death to gazing crowds shall tell; Nor weeping friends attend your sable bier, Who sadly listen to the passing bell; The tutor'd sigh, the vain parade of woe, No real anguish to the soul impart; And oft, alas!
Page 49 - Th' eternal empire of the main to keep, And guide her squadrons o'er the trembling deep. Her left, propitious, bore a mystic shield, Around whose margin rolls the watery field. There her bold Genius, in his floating car, O'er the wild billow hurls the storm of war—- And lo ! the beasts that oft with jealous rage In bloody combat met, from age to age, Tam'd into Union, yok'd in Friendship's chain, Draw his proud chariot round the vanquish'd main.
Page v - Twas his, the vast and trackless deep to rove ; Alternate change of climates has he known, And felt the fierce extremes of either zone : Where polar skies congeal the' eternal snow, Or equinoctial suns for ever glow, Smote by the freezing or the scorching blast, ' A ship-boy on the high and giddy mast...
Page 154 - With wonder gaze, and drop th' unconscious tear : " O ! then this moral bid their souls retain, " All thoughts of happiness on earth are vain."* The last faint accents trembled on his tongue, That now inactive to the palate clung ; His bosom heaves a mortal groan — he dies ! And shades eternal sink upon his eyes ! As thus...
Page 144 - Awhile they bore th' o'erwhelming billows rage, Unequal combat with their fate to wage ; Till all benumb'd and feeble they forego Their slippery hold, and sink to shades below. Some, from the main-yard-arm impetuous thrown On marble ridges, die without a groan. Three with Palemon on their skill depend, And from the wreck on oars and rafts descend. Now on the mountain-wave on high they ride, Then downward plunge beneath th...
Page 20 - That, with her pitchy entrails stored, resort A sooty tribe to fair Augusta's port : Where'er in ambush lurk the fatal sands, They claim the danger, proud of skilful bands ; For while with darkling course their vessels sweep The winding shore, or plough the faithless deep, O'er bar,* and shelf, the watery path they sound With dexterous arm, sagacious of the ground : Fearless they combat every hostile wind, Wheeling in mazy tracks, with course inclined.
Page 103 - Ingulf d, all help of art we vainly try, To weather leeward shores, alas ! too nigh ; Our crazy bark no longer can abide The seas, that thunder o'er her batter'd side ; And while the leaks a fatal warning give That in this raging sea she cannot live, One only refuge from despair we find — At once to wear and scud before the wind. Perhaps...
Page 142 - Maro's art To wake to sympathy the feeling heart ; Like him the smooth and mournful verse to dress In all the pomp of exquisite distress, Then too severely taught by cruel fate, To share in all the perils I relate, Then might I with unrivalled strains deplore The impervious horrors of a leeward shore...
Page 129 - Again to flank the tempest she might reel. The steersmen every bidden turn apply ; To right and left the spokes alternate fly. Thus when some conquer'd host retreats in fear, The bravest leaders guard the broken rear ; Indignant they retire, and long oppose Superior armies that around them close ; Still shield the flanks ; the routed squadrons join ; And guide the flight in one embodied line : So they direct the flying bark before Th' impelling floods that lash her to the shore.

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