Then the pilots of the place put out brisk and leapt on 15
board;
"Why, what hope or chance have ships like these to pass?" laughed
they;
"Rocks to starboard, rocks to port, all the passage scarred and
scored,
Shall the _Formidable_ here, with her twelve and eighty guns,
Think to make the river-mouth by the single narrow way,
Trust to enter--where 'tis ticklish for a craft of twenty tons, 20
And with flow at full beside?
Now, 'tis slackest ebb of tide.
Reach the mooring? Rather say,
While rock stands or water runs,
Not a ship will leave the bay!" 25