67
But now the narrow sharp-cut Prores renew, cleaving the humid argent plain, their road; blandly the north and eastern Trade-wind blew with gentle movement, as in joyous mood: Past perils in their talk review’d the Crew, for with a fond delay Thought loves to brood on dang’rous chances, when to death-in-life Life comes so near she scarcely ’scapes the strife.