Tis said, fantastic ocean doth enfold The likeness of whate'er on land is seen.

Who, doomed to go in company with Pain And Fear and Bloodshed,-miserable train!- Turns his necessity to glorious gain.

A Briton even in love should be A subject, not a slave!

Far from the world I walk, and from all care.

Two voices are there; one is of the sea, One of the mountains: each a mighty Voice.

But how can he expect that others should Build for him, sow for him, and at his call Love him, who for himself will take no heed at all?

Death is the quiet haven of us all.