StoryFen

I strive like to the vessel in the tide-way, Which, lacking favouring breeze, hath not the power To stem the powerful current.--Even so, Resolving daily to forsake my vices, Habits, strong circumstance, renew'd temptation, Sweep me to sea again.--O heavenly breath, Fill thou my sails, and aid the feeble vessel, Which ne'er can reach the blessed port without thee! _'Tis Odds when Evens meet._ Cleveland, with his friend Bunce, descended the hill for a time in silence, unt…