And wisest of the sons of men proclaimed, Spectator of such various horrors been, E’en he had staggered at this dreadful scene. In vain the cords and axes were prepar’d, 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; Across the foundered deck o’erwhelming roar, And foaming, swelling, bound upon the shore. Swift up the mounting billow now she flies, Her shattered top half buried in the skies; Borne o’er a latent reef the hull impends, Then thundering on the marble crags descends: Her ponderous bulk the dire concussion feels, And o’er upheaving surges wounded reels— Again she plunges! hark! a second shock Bilges the splitting vessel on the rock.— Down on the vale of death, with dismal cries, The fated victims shuddering cast their eyes In wild despair; while yet another stroke, With strong convulsion rends the solid oak: Ah Heaven!—behold her crashing ribs divide! She loosens, parts, and spreads in ruin o’er the tide. Oh, were it mine with sacred 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 Th’ impervious horrors of a leeward shore. As o’er the surf the bending mainmast hung, Still on the rigging thirty seamen clung: Some on a broken crag were struggling cast, And there by oozy tangles grappled fast; Awhile they bore th’ o’erwhelming billows’ rage, Unequal combat with their fate to wage; Till all benumed, 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’ involving tide; Till one, who seems in agony to strive, The whirling breakers heave on shore alive: The rest a speedier end of anguish knew, And prest the stony beach a lifeless crew! Next, O unhappy chief! th’ eternal doom Of Heaven decreed thee to the briny tomb: What scenes of misery torment thy view! What painful struggles of thy dying crew! Thy perished hopes all buried in the flood O’erspread with corses, red with human blood! So pierced with anguish hoary Priam gazed, When Troy’s imperial domes in ruin blazed; While he, severest sorrow doomed to feel, Expired beneath the victor’s murdering steel— Thus with his helpless partners to the last, Sad refuge! Albert grasps the floating mast. His soul could yet sustain this mortal blow, But droops, alas! beneath superior woe;