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Updated: May 5, 2025
The winds were fiercely wreaking Their vengeance on the wave, A hoarse dirge wildly shrieking O'er each uncoffin'd grave. "I started from my pillow The moon was riding high, The wind scarce heav'd a billow Beneath that cloudless sky. I look'd from earth to heaven, And bless'd the tranquil beam; My trembling heart had striven With the tempest of a dream." Goat Island
Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain; Man marks the earth with ruin his control Stops with the shore: upon the watery plain, The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain A shadow of man's ravage, save his own, When for a moment, like a drop of rain, He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan, Without a grave, unknell'd, uncoffin'd, and unknown.
Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain; Man marks the earth with ruin his control Stops with the shore; upon the watery plain The wrecks are all thy deeds, nor doth remain A shadow of man's ravage, save his own, When for a moment, like a drop of rain, He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan, Without a grave, unknell'd, uncoffin'd, and unknown." Byron.
Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain: Man marks the earth with ruin his control Stops with the shore, upon the watery plain The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain A shadow of man's ravage, save his own, When for a moment, like a drop of rain He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan, Without a grave, unknell'd, uncoffin'd, and unknown.
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