... open, like a reinless thing, Scarce print his footsteps on the surface-sand. As when with power from Hyperborean climes The north wind stoops, and scatters from his path Dry clouds and storms of Scythia ; the tall corn And rippling plains 'gin shiver with light gusts; A sound is heard among the forest-tops; Long waves come racing shoreward: fast he flies, With instant pinion sweeping earth and ma...