Of patched-up planks and man's contrivance, while
The rising waters undermine their toil,
The tempest fillips in their eyes the sand,
And bleach their brothers' bones upon the strand.
For who Eternity's great sea would dare,
Advertisement
Must plunge in boldly, for no boat is there.
What boots it all - What, ho! there, have you drink?
Come, let us gayly revel on the brink!
S.