Sonnet XXII: Wild Is the Foaming Sea

Wild is the foaming Sea! The surges roar! And nimbly dart the livid lightnings round! On the rent rock the angry waves rebound; Ah me! the less'ning bark is seen no more! Along the margin of the trembling shore, Loud as the blast my frantic cries shall sound, My storm-drench'd limbs the flinty fragments wound, And o'er my bleeding breast the billows pour! Phaon! return! ye winds, O! waft the strain To his swift bark; ye barb'rous waves forbear! Taunt not the anguish of a lover's brain, Nor feebly emulate the soul's despair! For howling winds, and foaming seas, in vain Assail the breast, when passion rages there!