Life by life the man redeems them, head by storm-worn head,
⁠While the girl's hand stays the boat whereof the waves are fain:
Ah, but woe for one, the mother clasping fast her dead!
⁠Happier, had the surges slain her with her children slain.
Back they bear, and bring between them safe the woful nine,
⁠Where above the ravenous Hawkers fixed at watch for prey
Storm and calm behold the Longstone's towering signal shine
⁠Now as when that labouring night brought forth a shuddering day.
Now as then, though like the hounds of storm against her snarling
⁠All the clamorous years between us storm down many a fame,