.mw-parser-output .wst-initial{float:left;display:block;font-size:1em;line-height:3em;margin:0 0.3em 0 0}.mw-parser-output .wst-initial-number{display:inline-block;line-height:1em;vertical-align:1.1em}.mw-parser-output .wst-initial-letter{font-size:3em}.mw-parser-output .wst-initial-suffix{text-transform:uppercase;letter-spacing:0}Celia and I the other day
Walk'd o'er the sand-hills to the sea:
The setting sun adorn'd the coast,
His beams entire, his fierceness lost;
And on the surface of the deep,
The winds lay only not asleep:
The prospect and the nymph were gay, .mw-parser-output .wst-floatright{float:right;text-indent:0} }
With silent joy I heard her say,
That we shou'd walk there ev'ry day.
But oh! the change! the winds grew high,
Impending tempests charge the sky;
The light'ning flies, the thunder roars,
And big waves lash the fright'ned shoars.
Struck with the horror of the sight,
She turns her head and wings her flight,
And trembling, vows she ne'er again
Will press the shore or see the main.
Look back at least once more, said I,
Thy self in that great glass descry;
When thou art in good humour drest,
When gentle reason rules thy breast,
The sun upon the calmest sea
Appears not half so bright as thee;
'Tis then that with delight I rove
Upon the boundless depth of love;
I bless my chain, I hand my oar,
Nor think on all I left on shore.
But when vain doubts and groundless fear,
Do that dear foolish bosom tear,
When the big lip and wat'ry eye
Tell me the rising storm is nigh;
'Tis then thou art yon angry main,
Deform'd by winds, and dash'd by rain;
And the poor sailor that must try
Its fury, labours less than I.
Shipwreck'd, in vain to land I make,
While love and fate still drive me back,
Forc'd to doat on thee thy own way,
I chide thee first and then obey.
Wretched when from thee, vext when nigh,
I with thee or without thee die.