Down prest by watery weight the bowsprit bends, And from above the stem deep-crashing rends: Beneath her bow the floating ruins lie; The fore-mast totters, unsustain'd on high; And now the ship, forelifted by the sea, 580 Hurls the tall fabric backward o'er her lee; While, in the general wreck, the faithful stay Drags the main top-mast by the cap away: Flung from the mast, the seamen strive in vain, Through hostile floods, their vessel to regain; Weak hope, alas! they buffet long the wave, And grasp at life though sinking in the grave; Till all exhausted, and bereft of strength, O'erpower'd they yield to cruel fate at length; The burying waters close around their head-- 590 They sink! for ever number'd with the dead. Those who remain the weather shrouds embrace, Nor longer mourn their lost companions' case: Transfix'd with terror at the approaching doom, Self-pity in their breasts alone has room. Albert, and Rodmond, and Palemon, near, With young Arion, on the mast appear: Even they, amid the unspeakable distress, In every look distracting thoughts confess; In every vein the refluent blood congeals, 600 And every bosom mortal terror feels; Begirt with all the horrors of the main, They view'd the adjacent shore, but view'd in vain. Such torments in the drear abodes of hell, Where sad despair laments with rueful yell,-- Such torments agonize the damned breast. That sees remote the mansions of the blest. It comes! the dire catastrophe draws near, Lash'd furious on by destiny severe: The ship hangs hovering on the verge of death, 610 Hell yawns, rocks rise, and breakers roar beneath! O yet confirm my heart, ye powers above! This last tremendous shock of fate to prove; The tottering frame of reason yet sustain, Nor let this total havoc whirl my brain; Since I, all trembling in extreme distress, Must still the horrible result express. In vain, alas! the sacred shades of yore Would arm the mind with philosophic lore; In vain they'd teach us, at the latest breath 620 To smile serene amid the pangs of death: Immortal Zeno's self would trembling see Inexorable fate beneath the lee; And Epictetus, at the sight, in vain Attempt his Stoic firmness to retain: Had Socrates, for godlike virtue famed, And wisest of the sons of men proclaim'd, Spectator of such various horrors been, Even he had stagger'd at this dreadful scene. In vain the cords and axes were prepared, 630 For every wave now smites the quivering yard; High o'er the ship they throw a dreadful shade, Then on her burst in terrible cascade;