Page:The Poems of John Dyer (1903).djvu/110

 Now, with our woolly treasures amply stor'd, Glide the tall fleets into the wid'ning main, A floating forest : every sail unfurl'd Swells to the wind, and gilds the azure sky. Meantime, in pleasing care, the pilot steers Steady ; with eye intent upon the steel, Steady before the breeze the pilot steers, While gaily o'er the waves the mounting prows Dance, like a shoal of dolphins, and begin To streak with various paths the hoary deep. Batavia's shallow sounds by some are sought, Or sandy Elb or Weser, who receive The swain's and peasant's toil with grateful hand, Which copious gives return ; while some explore Deep Finnic gulfs, and a new shore and mart, The bold creation of that Kesar's power, Illustrious Peter ! whose magnific toils Repair the distant Caspian, and restore To trade its ancient ports. Some Thanet's strand And Dover's chalky cliff behind them turn. Soon sinks away the green and level beach Of Rumney Marish and Rye's silent port, By angry Neptune clos'd, and Vecta's isle, Like the pale moon in vapour, faintly bright. An hundred op'ning marts are seen, are lost ; Devonia's hills retire, and Edgecumb Mount, Waving its gloomy groves, delicious scene ! Yet steady o'er the waves they steer ; and now The fluctuating world of waters wide,