But sorrow now o’erpow’rd by fear,

Soon is check’d the starting tear,

While in yonder piece I view,

100 Which Vanderveld’s bold pencil drew

Through all it’s gloom’d extent the ocean

Work’d into wild impetuous motion,

And with more dread t’ impress the soul

Grimly frowns the lurid sky,

And the condensing vapours roll,

And the fork’d light’nings fly---

With shatter’d sails and low-bent mast

Drives before the whirling blast

The fondering vessel---Hark! I hear

110 (Or does the eye deceive the ear?)

The thunder’s voice, the groaning air,

The billows loud roar

While they break on the shore,

The cries of the wreck’d, and their shrieks of despair.