Thrattis monologue — Circe : $b A dramatic fantasy

Sea-wind o’er the ripples crept; His cool breath my temples swept; Sea-wind whisper’d, as I slept Near to the wave. From his caverns, hollow-toned, Sea-wind mock’d my dream and moan’d. In my sleep I turn’d and groan’d As in the grave. Through lank grasses, swaying slow, Peering with green eyes a-glow Sea-wind stole and mutter’d low: “Wake not! sleep on, If my vision thou wouldst share:— The split mast; the lightning’s glare; Shrouds whirl’d wildly in mid-air! See! her helm gone, The vessel plunges. Lo! again Caught by the deadly hurricane, Crackling bolt and hissing rain, The hull spins round; Breaks, sinks! One man breasts the tide; Clutches spar and climbs astride; A sea-courser seems to ride.— Vague depths profound With white feet the others tread; Seek on ocean’s floor their bed; Or, to rude shores blindly led, Full nigh they draw; Ram-like, butt the flinty stones. The gray sea a dirge intones, Whilst the fat casing of their bones Dumb fishes gnaw.”