DR. PALMER'S ODE 



Or quit the haunts he ranged of old, 

 The land of love that gave him birth, 



For thirst of glory or of gold, 



To wander up and down the earth. 



But youth and manhood thus we pass, 

 Deluded by the wish to roam ; 



And find with age too late, alas ! 

 That all our joys were left at home. 



Ill 



The wind is up : the storm once more 

 Asserts dominion o'er the main ; 



And onward leads, with thundering roar, 

 His mingled hosts of hail and rain. 



O'er mounds of vapor darkly rolled, 

 Huge castled clouds are towering high, 



Confronting with the billows bold, 

 That dash defiance to the sky. 



Deep in the hollow of a wave, 

 The sea-bird swoops to find a lee ; 



But where the maddened waters rave, 

 What refuge, puny bark, for thee ? 



Now by the surges upward whirled, 

 She totters on their crests of snow : 



Anon, precipitately hurled, 



Down topples to the gulf below. 



The leaden skies above her frown, 



Through frozen drifts of cutting sleet ; 



And combing billows tumbling down, 

 Infold her like a winding-sheet. 



The dove that wandered from the ark, 

 To seek her long-deserted nest, 



Had vainly hovered round this bark 

 For one dry spot her wing to rest. 



The very creatures of the brine 



Appear to know her hapless plight : 



And snorting herds of fishy swine 



Come plunging round to mock her flight 



379 



