Down the tall Masts the top-sails sink amain,
Are manned and reefed, then hoisted up again.
More distant grew receding CANDIA's shore,
And southward of the west CAPE SPADO bore.

Four hours the Sun his high meridian throne
Had left, and o'er Atlantic regions shone;

Still blacker clouds, that all the skies invade,
Draw o'er his sullied orb a dismal shade:

A lowering Squall obscures the southern sky,
Before whose sweeping breath the waters fly;
Its weight the Top-sails can no more sustain-
Reef Top-Sails, reef! the Master calls again.
The halyards and top-bow-lines soon are gone,
To clue-lines and reef-tackles next they run:
The shivering Sails descend; the Yards are square;
Then quick aloft the ready Crew repair:
The weather-earings and the lee they past,
The reefs enrolled, and every point made fast.
Their Task above thus finished, they descend,
And vigilant th' approaching Squall attend:
It comes resistless! and with foaming sweep
Upturns the whitening surface of the Deep:

In such a Tempest, borne to deeds of death,
The Wayward Sisters scour the blasted heath.
The Clouds, with ruin pregnant, now impend,
And Storm, and Cataracts, tumultuous blend.
Deep, on her side, the reeling Vessel lies:
Brail up the Mizen quick! the Master cries,
Man the clue-garnets! let the Main-Sheet fly!
It rends in thousand shivering shreds on high!
The Main-Sail all in streaming ruins tore,
Loud fluttering, imitates the thunder's roar:
The Ship still labours in th' oppressive strain,
Low bending, as if ne'er to rise again.

Bear

up

the Helm a-weather! RODMOND cries:

Swift at the word the helm a-weather flies;
She feels its guiding power, and veers apace,
And now the Fore-sail right athwart they brace:
With equal sheets restrained, the bellying Sail
Spreads a broad concave to the sweeping Gale.
While o'er the foam the Ship impetuous flies,
The Helm th' attentive Timoneer applies:
As in pursuit along th' aërial way

With ardent eye the Falcon marks his prey,

a

Each motion watches of the doubtful chace,

Obliquely wheeling through the fluid space;
So, governed by the Steersman's glowing hands,
The regent Helm her motion still commands.
the transient Squall to leeward past,

But now,

Again she rallies to the sullen blast:

The Helm to starboard moves; each shivering Sail
Is sharply trimmed to clasp th' augmenting Gale—
The Mizen draws; she springs aloof once more,
While the fore Stay-Sail balances before.

The Fore-Sail braced obliquely to the wind,
They near the prow th' extended Tack confin'd;
Then on the leeward Sheet the seamen bend,
And haul the bow-line to the Bowsprit-end :

To Top-Sails next they haste; the buntlines gone!
Through rattling blocks the Clue-lines swiftly run;
Th' extending Sheets on either side are mann'd,
Abroad they come! the fluttering Sails expand;
The Yards again ascend each comrade Mast,
The Lecches taught, the Halyards are made fast,

The Bow-lines hauled, and Yards to starboard braced,

And straggling ropes in pendant order placed.