Still o’er the stormy waste they labour on,
    Thro’ bowling deserts and thro’ paths unknown—­
    A long, long way! the lightnings flame around,
    And winds and billows mix their mournful sound. 
    Still on they fare—­’till thro’ the ambient night
    Bursts a third whirlwind with redoubled might;
    The congregated clouds in one vast sweep
    It drives, and bares the bosom of the deep. 
    The sail flies loose, the mast in fragments torn
    O’er the black surface of the waves is borne
    Louder, and longer, over heaven’s wide field
    Thro’ the rent clouds the bellowing thunders peal’d: 
    In one blue sheet the streamy lightnings glare;
    A thousand demons ride the flaming air,
    O’er the dark waves a deeper horror cast,
    And howl between the pauses of the blast. 
    And now ’twas silence all—­a sulphurous smell
    Spread round:  a cloud arose with sudden swell;
    Slow o’er the ocean’s trembling waves it past,
    And from its bosom, indistinct and vast,
    A giant form advanced across the gloom
    Of air, and pointed to the watery tomb.

      Shuddering with fear, he turn’d.—­His guide was gone;
    A broad chaotic cloud appear’d alone. 
    His limbs no more their chilly weight sustained,
    A deathlike torpor o’er his bosom reign’d,
    His stony eyeballs fix’d in silent trance
    Met the terrific Spectre’s withering glance. 
    And lo! the Phantom waves, with sudden glare,
    His burning sceptre thro’ the starless air! 
    High o’er the bark the booming billows spread,
    The deafening waves were closing o’er his head;
    When rushing clouds the towering form involved,
    And all the vision into air dissolved. 
    Like mist that flits before the solar car,
    Or the wan splendours of a falling star,
    The scene dispers’d; and at his side, return’d,
    The heavenly Guide in all his radiance burn’d.

      A smile, with love and calm affection fraught,
    The Seraph gave, as by the hand he caught
    Th’ admiring Exile:  then the earth forsook,
    And thro’ dividing clouds his easy journey took.

      Above the skies on silent wings upborne,
    They seek the quarter of the rising morn,
    And, wheeling thro’ the stars their level flight,
    On a tall mountain’s cloudless top alight.

      Beneath, a boundless realm in prospect lay;
    Fair as the regions of perpetual day
    Wide stretch’d the peaceful vale.  A brighter sun
    Thro’ purer skies his azure course begun,
    And, uneclips’d, along th’ etherial road
    A host of stars with rival splendours glow’d. 
    Far to the west, with dewy spangles gay,
    Long tracts of meads reflect the orient ray;
    Collected fragrance breathes in every gale,
    And harvests nod on every yellow dale.