Smiling in sunshine as the storm frowns by
Whose dreadful rage seems to thy quiet thrall
As small birds twitterings that beneath thee fly
Winds call aloud & they may louder call
For deaf to dangers voice sublime & grand
Thou towerst in thy old majesty oer all
Tempests that break the tall masts like a wand
Howl their rage weary round thee & no more
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