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The Main-Sail, by the Squall so lately rent, In streaming pendants flying, is unbent: With brails refixed, another soon prepar'd, Ascending, spreads along beneath the Yard. To each yard-arm the head-rope they extend, And soon their earings and their robans berd. That task performed, they first the braces slack, Then to the Chesstree drag th' unwilling Tack. And, while the lee clue-garnet's lowered away, Taught aft the Sheet they tally, and belay.

Now to the north, from AFRIC's burning shore, A troop of Porpoises their course explore; In curling wreaths they gambol on the tide, Now bound aloft, now down the billow glide: Their tracks awhile the hoary Waves retain, That burn in sparkling trails along the Main— These fleetest Coursers of the finny race,

When threatening Clouds th' etherial vault deface, Their route to leeward still sagacious form,

To shun the fury of th' approaching Storm.

III. Fair CANDIA now no more beneath her lee Protects the Vessel from th' insulting Sea;

Round her broad arms impatient of control,
Roused from the secret Deep, the billows roll:
Sunk were the bulwarks of the friendly Shore,
And all the scene an hostile aspect wore.

The flattering Wind, that late with promised aid
From CANDIA's bay th' unwilling Ship betray'd,
No longer fawns beneath the fair disguise,
But like a ruffian on his quarry flies:

Tost on the tide she feels the tempest blow,
And dreads the vengeance of so fell a foe—
As the proud Horse with costly trappings gay,
Exulting, prances to the bloody fray;

Spurning the ground he glories in his might,
But reels tumultuous in the shock of fight:

E'en so, caparisoned in gaudy pride,

The bounding Vessel dances on the tide.

Fierce and more fierce the gathering Tempest grew,

South, and by West, the threatening Demon blew;
AUSTER'S resistless force all air invades,

And every rolling Wave more ample spreads:
The Ship no longer can her top-sails bear;

No hopes of milder weather now appear.

Bowlines and Halyards are cast off again,

Clue-lines hauled down, and Sheets let fly amain:
Embrailed each Top-sail, and by braces squar'd,
The Seamen climb aloft, and man each Yard;
They furled the Sails, and pointed to the wind
The Yards, by rolling tackles then confin'd,
While o'er the Ship the gallant Boatswain flies;
Like a hoarse mastiff through the Storm he cries,
Prompt to direct th' unskilful still appears,
Th' expert he praises, and the timid cheers.
Now some, to strike Top-gallant-Yards attend,
Some, Trav❜llers up the weather-back-stays send,
At each mast-head the Top-ropes others bend:
The Parrels, Lifts, and Clue-lines soon are gone,
Topped and unrigged, they down the back-stays run;
The Yards secure along the Booms were laid,
And all the flying ropes aloft belay'd:

Their Sails reduced, and all the rigging clear,
Awhile the Crew relax from toils severe;
Awhile their spirits with fatigue opprest,
In vain expect th' alternate hour of rest—

But with redoubling force the Tempests blow,
And watery hills in dread succession flow:

A dismal shade o'ercasts the frowning Skies,
New troubles grow; fresh difficulties rise;
No season this from duty to descend,

All hands on deck must now the Storm attend.

His race performed, the sacred Lamp of day
Now dipt in western clouds his parting ray :
His languid fires, half lost in ambient haze,
Refract along the dusk a crimson blaze;

Till deep immerged the sickening orb descends,
And cheerless Night o'er Heaven her reign extends:

Sad Evening's hour, how different from the past!

No flaming pomp, no blushing glories cast,

No ray of friendly light is seen around;

The Moon and Stars in hopeless shade are drown'd.
The Ship no longer can whole courses bear,
To reef them now becomes the Master's care;

The Sailors, summoned aft, all ready stand,

And man th' enfolding Brails at his command:

But here the doubtful Officers dispute,

Till skill, and judgment, prejudice confute:

For RODMOND, to new methods still a foe,
Would first, at all events, the Sheet let go;
To long-tried practice obstinately warm,
He doubts conviction, and relies on form.
This ALBERT and ARION disapprove,
And first to brail the tack up firmly move:
"The watchful Seaman, whose sagacious eye
"On sure experience may with truth rely,

"Who from the reigning Cause foretels th' Effect, "This barbarous practice ever will reject;

For, fluttering loose in air, the rigid Sail "Soon flits to ruins in the furious Gale; "And he, who strives the Tempest to disarm, "Will never first embrail the lee Yard-Arm." So ALBERT spoke; to windward, at his call, Some Seamen the clue-garnet stand to haul— The Tack's eased off, while the involving Clue . Between the pendent blocks ascending flew; The Sheet and weather-brace they now stand by, The lee clue-garnet, and the bunt-lines ply: Then, all prepared, Let go the Sheet! he criesLoud rattling, jarring, through the blocks it flies!

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