Arise! ye spirits of the storm,
Appal the guilty eye;
Tear the wild waves, ye mighty winds,
Ye fated lightnings fly,
Dart thro’ the tempest of the deep,
And rocks and seas confound,
Hark how the vengeful thunder roars,
Amazement flames around.
Behold! the fate-devoted bark
Dash’d on the trembling shore;
Mercy! the sinking wretches cry!
Mercy!—they’re heard no more.
Where the bee sucks, there lurk I:
In a cowslip’s bell I lie;
There I couch when owls do cry.
On the bat’s back do I fly
After sunset merrily.
Merrily, merrily shall I live now
Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.