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Sea-cover'd, human thing there cannot be; Though, at the first, it sounded in our ears Like a faint woman's voice.

Perceiv'd ye aught?

Yes; something white that moved, and, as we think, Some wounded bird that there hath dropt its wing, And cannot make its way.

Perhaps some dog, Whose master at low water there hath been, And left him.

Something 'tis in woeful case, Whate'er it be. Right fain I would have gone To bear it off.

And wherefore didst thou not? Return and save it. Be it what it may; Something it is, lone and in jeopardy, Which hath a feeling of its desperate state,