Normale Version: On a stormy Sea Prospect
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On a stormy Sea Prospect

How fearful 'tis to walk the sounding shore,
When lours the sky, and winds are piping loud!
And round the beach the tearful maidens crowd,
Scared at the swelling surge and thunder's roar.

High o'er the cliff the screaming seamews soar,
Lost is the' adventurous bark in stormy cloud,
The shrill blast whistles through the fluttering shroud,
And lo! the gallant crew, that erst before

Secure rode tilting o'er the placid wave,
Scarce know to stem the black and boisterous main,
And view, with eyes aghast, their watery grave.

So fares it with the breast of him, the swain,
Who quits Content for mad Ambition's lore,
Short are his days, and distant far the shore.