VII.

Even as he spoke, around the promontory, Which nodded o'er the billows high and hoary, A dark speck dotted Ocean: on it flew Like to the shadow of a roused sea-mew; Onward it came--and, lo! a second followed-- Now seen--now hid--where Ocean's vale was hollowed; 170 And near, and nearer, till the dusky crew Presented well-known aspects to the view, Till on the surf their skimming paddles play, Buoyant as wings, and flitting through the spray;-- Now perching on the wave's high curl, and now Dashed downward in the thundering foam below, Which flings it broad and boiling sheet on sheet, And slings its high flakes, shivered into sleet: But floating still through surf and swell, drew nigh The barks, like small birds through a lowering sky. 180 Their art seemed nature--such the skill to sweep The wave of these born playmates of the deep.