266 SEA FABLES EXPLAINED. 



Fill the void space, and with the rushing weight, 

 Force down th' inconstants to their former seat. 

 When, first arrived, they feel the stronger blast, 

 They lie supine and skim the liquid waste. 

 The natural barks out-do all human art 

 When skilful floaters play the sailor's part. 

 Two feet they upward raise, and steady keep ; 

 These are the masts and rigging of the ship : 

 A membrane stretch'd between supplies the sail, 

 Bends from the masts, and swells before the gale. 

 Two other feet hang paddling on each side, 

 And serve for oars to row and helm to guide. 

 'Tis thus they sail, pleased with the wanton game, 

 The fish, the sailor, and the ship, the same. 

 But when the swimmers dread some dangers near 

 The sportive pleasure yields to stronger fear. 

 No more they, wanton, drive before the blasts, 

 But strike the sails, and bring down all the masts ; 

 The rolling waves their sinking shells o'erflow, 

 And dash them down again to sands below." 



Montgomery also thus exquisitely paraphrases the same 

 idea in his ' Pelican Island ' : 



" Light as a flake of foam upon the wind, 

 Keel upwards, from the deep emerged a shell 

 Shaped like the moon ere half her orb is filled. 

 Fraught with young life, it righted as it rose, 

 And moved at will along the yielding water. 

 The native pilot of this little bark 

 Put out a tier of oars on either side, 

 Spread to the wafting breeze a twofold sail, 

 And mounted up, and glided down, the billows 

 In happy freedom, pleased to feel the air> 

 And wander in the luxury of light." 



Byron mentions the Nautilus in his 'Mutiny of the 

 Bounty ' as follows : 



"The tender Nautilus, who steers his prow, 

 The sea-born sailor of his shell canoe, 

 The ocean Mab the fairy of the sea, 

 Seems far less fragile, and alas! more free. 



