one abroad,
Flo wished she'd been a sailor lad with curls
By all the fair of Christendom adored;
Then Dora too her present state deplored
And also would have been a tar (because
She loved to listen when the waters roared)
Or any blessed thing but what she was;
All these ideas were most enjoyable of course.

LVI.

At some short distance was a vessel hurled,
A dismal wreck, upon the rockbound shoal,
Around its hulk th' encircling billows curled,
Now thro' its splintered deck the wavelet stole,
Then, issuing forth, it gurgled through a hole
Staved by the tempest's fury in its side,
Afar off did its shattered timbers roll,
Its treasures all were scattered in the tide.
The headland gained, the swaying wreck they soon espied.

LVII.

Soon as the waves permitted them to go
Across the smooth white rocks, they to it went;
The raging brine had torn off half the bow,
Its starboard shivered and its cordage rent;
The warring waters had their anger spent
And flung its fragments to the cruel blast,
Its iron bands were burst apart and bent,
And all around in dire disorder cast;
There, shattered, at some little distance, lay the mast.

LVIII.

When gazing pensively o'er ocean's realm
Its wide destruction, its unspoken might,
There is a something which doth overwhelm,
As day is overshadowed by the night;
This was, forsooth, an interesting sight
To them, yet no less dreadful, for the scene
Was one such as could never yield delight,
And so delighted they could not have been,
Before they never such a spectacle had seen.

LIX.

They picked up curious items, three or four,
And placed them in their baskets to take home,
The wreck and its surroundings did explore,
Upon the slimy reefs, too, did they roam,
While backward and still backward rolled the foam,
While faster flew each hour, one after one,
And they discovered evening had come,
'Twas time they put an end to all their fun,
And so to think of their return they had begun.

LX.

The time indeed had gone exceeding fast,
But _how_ it had gone--_that_ they could not say,
And nor could I, my reader, if you asked,
They tell me that for no man Time will stay:
Oh! not for womankind--for such as they?
I'm half afraid old Chronos doth forget
As he goes tearing on from day to day
The right and just demands of etiquette
Which is, as you'll agree, a matter of regret.

LXI.

They finished their refreshments seated nicely
Upon a spar (just what they all requ