BOOK III ADRIFT ON AN ECHOLESS OCEAN

“When descends on the Atlantic The gigantic Storm wind of the equinox, ... in his wroth he scourges The toiling surges, Laden with sea-weed from the rucks. . . . . . . And from wrecks of ships, and drifting Spars uplifting, On the desolate, rainy seas— . . . . . . Ever drifting, drifting, drifting On the shifting Currents of the restless main.” —Longfellow.