LIFE OF JAMES DWIGHT DANA 



The whooping gale swells out the sail, 

 And gives fresh force for harder blows : 



At every blast a danger 's past, 

 And Thulia flies to meet new foes. 



Now to the charge she drives amain, 

 Her fragile bows uprearing high : 



Recoils, and rushes on again, 



Till mingled ice and splinters fly. 



Careering reeling on her side 



She lies, with burnished keel all bare : 



Now rights again with sudden slide, 

 Dashing the waters high in air. 



Still jarring on, each writhing mast, 



And shroud, and stay, is well-nigh riven ; 



The wild, white canvas strains its fast ; 

 And timbers from their bolts are driven. 



On, little bark ! On, yet awhile ! 



Across the frozen desert flee ; 

 For yonder, with its welcome smile, 



Now sparkles bright thine own blue sea. 



The baffled monsters fall behind, 



Nor longer urge pursuit so vain : 

 One moment more, and rest we find 



'T is past she 's safe, she 's safe again ! 



With drooping peak now lying-to, 



Where sea-fowl brood she checks her motion, 

 Like them to plume herself anew, 



In the bright mirror of the ocean. 



All signs of strife soon wiped away, 



They northward turn God speed them on ! 



To climes beneath whose genial ray 

 Repose is sweet when toil is done. 



384 



