Page:Poems - Southey (1799) volume 1.djvu/83

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Bewilder'd on his lonely way.When, loud and keen and chill,The evening winds of winter blow,Drifting deep the dismal snow.
Or if thou followest now on Groenland's shore,With all thy terrors, on the lonely wayOf some wreck'd mariner, when to the roarOf herded bears, the floating ice-hills roundPour their deep echoing sound,And by the dim drear Boreal lightGivest half his dangers to the wretch's sight.
Or if thy fury form,When o'er the midnight deepThe dark-wing'd tempests sweepWatches from some high cliff the encreasing storm,Listening with strange delight,As the black billows to the thunder raveWhen by the lightning's lightThou seest the tall ship sink beneath the wave.
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