Lesbia monologue — The Purgatory of St. Patrick

Is any sight more fair? can aught surpass That of a vessel breaking through the glass Of crystal seas, and seeming there to be, As with light share it cuts the azure mass, A fish of the wind, a swift bird of the sea, And being for two elements designed, Flies in the wave and swims upon the wind? But now no witchery Were it to any eyes that sight to see; For lo! the roused-up ocean, Heaving with all its mountain waves in motion, Wrinkles its haughty brow, And suddenly awaking, Neptune, his trident shaking, Ruffles the beauteous face so sweet and calm but now. Well may the sailor in his floating home Expect a storm, for, lo! in heaven's high vault Rise pyramids of ice, mountains of salt, Turrets of snow, and palaces of foam.