13. 
Then on the white edge of the bursting surge, 235
Where they had sunk together, would the Snake
Relax his suffocating grasp, and scourge
The wind with his wild writhings; for to break
That chain of torment, the vast bird would shake
The strength of his unconquerable wings 240
As in despair, and with his sinewy neck,
Dissolve in sudden shock those linked rings—­
Then soar, as swift as smoke from a volcano springs.

14. 
Wile baffled wile, and strength encountered strength,
Thus long, but unprevailing:—­the event 245
Of that portentous fight appeared at length: 
Until the lamp of day was almost spent
It had endured, when lifeless, stark, and rent,
Hung high that mighty Serpent, and at last
Fell to the sea, while o’er the continent 250
With clang of wings and scream the Eagle passed,
Heavily borne away on the exhausted blast.

15. 
And with it fled the tempest, so that ocean
And earth and sky shone through the atmosphere—­
Only, ’twas strange to see the red commotion 255
Of waves like mountains o’er the sinking sphere
Of sunset sweep, and their fierce roar to hear
Amid the calm:  down the steep path I wound
To the sea-shore—­the evening was most clear
And beautiful, and there the sea I found 260
Calm as a cradled child in dreamless slumber bound.

16. 
There was a Woman, beautiful as morning,
Sitting beneath the rocks, upon the sand
Of the waste sea—­fair as one flower adorning
An icy wilderness; each delicate hand 265
Lay crossed upon her bosom, and the band
Of her dark hair had fall’n, and so she sate
Looking upon the waves; on the bare strand
Upon the sea-mark a small boat did wait,
Fair as herself, like Love by Hope left desolate. 270

17. 
It seemed that this fair Shape had looked upon
That unimaginable fight, and now
That her sweet eyes were weary of the sun,
As brightly it illustrated her woe;
For in the tears which silently to flow 275
Paused not, its lustre hung:  she watching aye
The foam-wreaths which the faint tide wove below
Upon the spangled sands, groaned heavily,
And after every groan looked up over the sea.

18. 
And when she saw the wounded Serpent make 280
His path between the waves, her lips grew pale,
Parted, and quivered; the tears ceased to break
From her immovable eyes; no voice of wail
Escaped her; but she rose, and on the gale
Loosening her star-bright robe and shadowy hair 285
Poured forth her voice; the caverns of the vale
That opened to the ocean, caught it there,
And filled with silver sounds the overflowing air.