While Tappan Sea rolls yonder,
Or round High Torn the thunder
Along these ramparts shouts.
No corner-lot banditti,
Or brokers from the City--
Like you--" Here Dobbs began
Wildly both oars to brandish,
As fierce as old Miles Standish,
Or young Phil Sheridan.

Sternwards he rushed,--I, ducking,
Seized both his legs, and chucking
Dobbs sideways, splash he went,--
The wherry swayed, then righted,
While I, somewhat excited,
Over the water bent;
Three times he rose, but vainly
I clutched his form ungainly,
He sank, while sighs and sobs
Beneath the waves seemed muttered,
And all the night-winds uttered
In sad tones, "Dobbs! Dobbs! Dobbs!"

Just then some giant boulders
Upon my head and shoulders
Made sudden, fearful raids,
And on my face and forehead,
With din and uproar horrid,
Came several Palisades;
I screamed, and woke, in screaming,