...uld fail and founder in that rising flood. Three wintry nights across the boundless main The south wind buffeted and bore me on; At the fourth daybreak, lifted from the surge, I looked at last on Italy , and swam With weary stroke on stroke unto the land. Safe was I then. Alas! but as I climbed With garments wet and heavy, my clenched hand Grasping the steep rock, came a cruel horde Upon me wit...