Chapter 300 of 1964 · 68 words · ~1 min read

LXII.

The sun rose red and fiery, a sure sign Of the continuance of the gale: to run Before the sea until it should grow fine, Was all that for the present could be done: A few tea-spoonfuls of their rum and wine Were served out to the people, who begun[120] To faint, and damaged bread wet through the bags, And most of them had little clothes but rags.