At this Rate it held blowing till _Wednesday_ about One a Clock in the Afternoon, which was that Day Seven-night on which it began; so that it might be called one continued Storm from _Wednesday_ Noon to _Wednesday_ Noon: in all which time, there was not one Interval of Time in which a Sailor would not have acknowledged it blew a Storm; and in that time two such terrible Nights as I have describ'd. And this I particularly noted as to Time, _Wednesday, Nov._ the 24_th_ was a calm fine Day as at that time of Year shall be seen; till above Four a Clock, when it began to be Cloudy, and the Wind rose of a sudden, and in half an Hours Time it blew a Storm. _Wednesday, Dec._ the 2_d._ it was very tempestuous all the Morning; at One a Clock the Wind abated, the Sky clear'd, and by Four a Clock there was not a Breath of Wind. Thus ended the Greatest and the Longest Storm that ever the World saw. The Effects of this terrible Providence are the Subject of the ensuing Chapter; and I close this with a Pastoral Poem sent us among the Accounts of the Storm from a very ingenious Author, and desir'd to be publish'd in this Account. _A PASTORAL, Occasion'd by the Late Violent Storm_ _Damon, Melibæus._ DAM. _Walking alone by pleasant Isis side Where the two Streams their wanton course divide, And gently forward in soft Murmurs glide; Pensive and sad I_ Melibæus _meet, And thus the melancholy Shepherd greet. Kind Swain, what Cloud dares overcast your brow, Bright as the Skies o're happy_ Nile _till now! Does_ Chloe _prove unkind, or some new Fair?_ MEL. _No_ Damon, _mine's a publick, nobler, Care; Such in which you and all the World must share. 10 One Friend may mollifie another's Grief, But publick Loss admits of no relief._ DAM. _I guess your Cause: O you that use to sing Of Beauty's Charms and the Delights of Spring; Now change your Note, and let your Lute rehearse The dismal Tale in melancholy Verse._ MEL.