Poems from the works of Charles Cotton; newly decorated by Claud Lovat Fraser . 39. The beaten Bark her Rudder lost,Is on the rowling Billows tost;Her Keel now plows the Ouse, and soonHer Top-Mast tillts against the Moon. Tis strange! the Pilot keeps his seat;His bounding Ship does so curvet,Whilst the poor Passengers are their own fears already drownd. Now Fins do serve for Wings, and bearTheir Scaly Squadrons through the Air;Whilst the Airs Inhabitants do stainTheir gaudy Plumage in the Main. Now Stars concealed in Clouds do peepInto the Secrets of the deep;And Lobsters spued from t

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Poems from the works of Charles Cotton; newly decorated by Claud Lovat Fraser . 39. The beaten Bark her Rudder lost,Is on the rowling Billows tost;Her Keel now plows the Ouse, and soonHer Top-Mast tillts against the Moon. Tis strange! the Pilot keeps his seat;His bounding Ship does so curvet,Whilst the poor Passengers are their own fears already drownd. Now Fins do serve for Wings, and bearTheir Scaly Squadrons through the Air;Whilst the Airs Inhabitants do stainTheir gaudy Plumage in the Main. Now Stars concealed in Clouds do peepInto the Secrets of the deep;And Lobsters spued from the brineWith Cancer constellations shine. Sure Neptunes Watery Kingdoms yetSince first their Corral Graves were nere disturbed with such had such trial of their Arms.

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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1920, bookidcu3192401317, bookyear1922