Th’ assaulting surge repelled upon her rear, And since as soon that tempest may decay, When steering shoreward—wherefore thus delay? Should we at last be driven by dire decree Too near the fatal margin of the sea, The hull dismasted there awhile may ride, With lengthened cables, on the raging tide; Perhaps kind Heaven, with interposing power, May curb the tempest ere that dreadful hour; But here, ingulfed and foundering, while we stay, Fate hovers o’er, and marks us for her prey.” He said: Palemon saw with grief of heart, The storm prevailing o’er the pilot’s art; In silent terror and distress involved, He heard their last alternative resolved: High beat his bosom—with such fear subdued, Beneath the gloom of some enchanted wood, Oft in old time the wandering swain explored The midnight wizards, breathing rites abhorred; Trembling, approached their incantations fell, And, chilled with horror, heard the songs of hell. Arion saw, with secret anguish moved, The deep affliction of the friend he loved, And all awake to Friendship’s genial heat His bosom felt consenting tremors beat! Alas! no season this for tender love, Far hence the music of the myrtle grove— He tried with soft persuasion’s melting lore Palemon’s fainting courage to restore; His wounded spirit healed with friendship’s balm, And bade each conflict of the mind be calm. Now had the pilots all th’ events revolved, And on their final refuge thus resolved— When, like the faithful shepherd who beholds Some prowling wolf approach his fleecy folds, To the brave crew, whom racking doubts perplex, The dreadful purpose Albert thus directs: “Unhappy partners in a wayward fate! Whose courage now is known perhaps too late; Ye! who unmoved behold this angry storm In conflict all the rolling deep deform; Who, patient in adversity, still bear The firmest front when greatest ills are near; The truth, though painful, I must now reveal, That long in vain I purposed to conceal: Ingulfed, 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 battered 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 e’en then to ruin we may steer, } For rocky shores beneath our lee appear; } But that’s remote, and instant death is here: } Yet there, by Heaven’s assistance, we may gain Some creek or inlet of the Grecian main; Or, sheltered by some rock, at anchor ride Till with abating rage the blast subside: But if, determined by the will of Heaven, Our helpless bark at last ashore is driven,