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(From Ranolf and Amohia)
A NOBLE sport and my delight— | |
| That reefing topsails! just to make all right, | |
| Ere the wind freshens to a gale at night. | |
| See! clambering nimbly up the shrouds, | |
| Go, thick as bees, the sailor-crowds; | 5 |
| The smartest for the post of honor vie | |
| That weather yard-arm pointing to the sky: | |
| They gather at the topmast-head, | |
| And dark against the darkling cloud | |
| Sidling along the foot-ropes spread; | 10 |
| Dim figures o’er the yard-arm bowed, | |
| How with the furious sail, a glorious sight, | |
| Up in the darkness of the sky they fight! | |
| While by the fierce encounter troubled | |
| The heavy pitching of the ship is doubled; | 15 |
| The big sail’s swelling, surging volumes, full | |
| Of wind, the strong reef-tackle half restrains; | |
| And like some lasso-tangled bull | |
| Checked in its mid career of savage might | |
| O’er far La Plata’s plains, | 20 |
| It raves and tugs and plunges to get free, | |
| And flaps and bellows in its agony! | |
| But slowly yielding to its scarce-seen foes | |
| Faint and more faint its frenzied struggling grows; | |
| Till, by its frantic rage at length | 25 |
| Exhausted, like that desert-ranger’s strength, | |
| Silent and still, it seems to shrink and close; | |
| Then, tight comprest, the reef-points firmly tied, | |
| Down to the deck again the sailors glide; | |
| And easier now, with calm concentred force, | 30 |
| The ship bounds forward on her lightened course. | |
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