206 A STORM. THE WAVES. 



crests of the waves, chafes around the reef, dashes 

 with angry foam against the precipice, or ever and 

 anon, as the fitful blast puts on all its fury, covers 

 the whole with recking confusion, as if by the force 

 of the agitation, the very water had taken fire ; if 

 one can stand so as to view the full swell of the tem- 

 pest-tossed ocean sideways, it is indeed a spirit-stirring 

 sight ! The dark trough, between every two ridges, 

 appears as if the waters were cleft in twain, and both 

 a pathway and a shelter displayed, while ridge courses 

 after ridge in eager race, but with equal celerity. 

 Some, indeed, appear to fall in their course, and to 

 be trampled down by those that are behind. They 

 are hit by one of those momentary gusts which fall ; 

 and where, as Burns expressively has it, the wind is 

 every where blowing 



" As 'twould blaw its last," 



it lashes a portion of the surge to a greater elevation than 

 it can bear ; or, some bank or hidden rock from below 

 arrests it in its course ; and down it thunders in brawl- 

 ing and foam, interrupting the succession, and embroil- 

 ing its successors in its fate. 



Even when seen from the pebbly beach of a lee- 

 shore, the ocean in a storm is a sight both to be enjoyed 

 and remembered. The wave comes rolling onward, 

 dark and silent, till it meets with the reflux of its pre- 

 decessor, which produces a motion to seaward on the 

 ground, and throws the approaching wave off its equi- 

 librium. Its progress is arrested for a moment ; the 

 wall of water vibrates, and as it now meets the wind, 

 instead of moving before it, its crest becomes hoary 



