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 Lo! when the sailors steer the pond'rous ships, And plough, with brazen beaks, the foamy deeps. Incumbent on the main that roars around; Beneath their lab'ring oars the waves resound, The prows wide-ecchoingechoing [sic] thro' the dark profound: To the loud call each distant rock replies, Tost by the storm the tow'ring surges rise; While the hoarse ocean beats the sounding shore, Dashed from the strand, the flying waters roar, Flash at the shock, and gath'ring in an heap, The liquid mountains rise, and over-hang the deep. See thro' her shores Trinacria's realms rebound, Starting and trembling at the bellowing sound; High-bounding o'er the waves the mountains ride, And clash with floating mountains on the tide. But when blue Neptune from his car surveys And calms at one regard the raging seas; Stretcht like a peaceful lake the deep subsides, And the pitch't vessel o'er the surface glides. The poet's art and conduct we admire, When angry Vulcan rolls a flood of fire; When