The pebbles harshly grating on the beach.
So now I curse; and smile to think my oath
As useless as the Ave, - folly both, -
For many wrecks lie in this grewsome place,
And flaunt their rotten ribs before my face,
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And some bore faith, and some bore hope, and some
(Like this particularly battered one
Which shows half hid in sand that cross of plank)
Bore human souls. Why this last convoy sank
Is yet a point discussed. Perhaps 't was fate;
Perhaps, the uncommon lightness of their freight!
See those poor shipwrecked fools, who weakly try
To tinker up their poor old ship, and cry,
To work! and wisely scheme and gravely aim
To cross Time's boundless ocean in a frame
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