I. ADIEU! ye pleasures of the sylvan scene, Where Peace, and calm Contentment dwell serene: With Summer crowned, th' Elysian vallies smile; J Fialer foulp To me those happier scenes no joy impart, The Muse invites you, judge if she depart, In practice trained, and conscious of her power, Her voice attempting themes, before unknown II. O'er the smooth bosom of the faithless tides, The thoughts of Home, that o'er his fancy roll, 1.9 Distress recedes, and Danger melts away. This vast Phenomenon, whose lofty head, In Heaven immersed, embracing clouds o'erspread, In spiral motion first, as Seamen deem, Swells, when the raging whirlwind sweeps the stream. The swift volution, and th' enormous train, The horrid Apparition still draws nigh, And white with foam the whirling billows fly. The guns were primed; the Vessel northward veers, Till her black battery on the Column bears: The nitre fired; and, while the dreadful sound The watery Volume, trembling to the sky, But soon, this transient undulation o'er, The Sea subsides, the whirlwinds rage no more. |