240
Tixall Poetry.
Life.
I.
While frantick winds with fury blow,
And plough and shake the fickle main,
The working billows swell, with dreadful noise they flow,
To vales and hills they turn the liquid plain.
Their oozy beds profoundest waters leave,
As if the sea's proud brood, like earth's, would try
To extinguish and confound the glories of the sky:
Their bold gigantic heads they proudly heave;
O'er mountains rival mountains soar,
And foam and rave with horrid roar:
But soon each following surge its leading surge controuls,
Successively pushed on the fluid mountain rowls,
And dashed and spent dies on the shoar;
Buried and lost in the universal tomb,
Its vast maternal womb.
While frantick winds with fury blow,
And plough and shake the fickle main,
The working billows swell, with dreadful noise they flow,
To vales and hills they turn the liquid plain.
Their oozy beds profoundest waters leave,
As if the sea's proud brood, like earth's, would try
To extinguish and confound the glories of the sky:
Their bold gigantic heads they proudly heave;
O'er mountains rival mountains soar,
And foam and rave with horrid roar:
But soon each following surge its leading surge controuls,
Successively pushed on the fluid mountain rowls,
And dashed and spent dies on the shoar;
Buried and lost in the universal tomb,
Its vast maternal womb.
