Lo to the wintry winds the pilot yields 
His bark careering o'er untrodden fields ; 
Now on Atlantic waves he rides afar 
Where Andes, giant of the western star, 
With meteor standard to the winds unfurFd, 
Looks from his throne of clouds o'er half the world. 
Campbell. 
The sounding Cataract 
Haunted me like a passion ; the tall rock, 
The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood, 
Their colours and their forms, were then to me 
An appetite, a feeling, and a love. 
Wordsworth. 
