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 Z A R A: 
 
 A POEM OF THE SEA.
 
 LONDON : 
 
 nATI.IS AND LEIGHTON, 
 .IdllNSOX'S-COlIRT, KI.KET STKKET
 
 Z A R A : 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE BLACK DEATH. 
 
 A POEM OF THE SEA. 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OF 
 
 "NAUFRAGU S." 
 
 " Ships are but boards; sailors but men; there be land rats and there be 
 water rats; watc-r thieves and land thieve" ; — I mean pirates ; and then there 
 is the peril of the waters, winds, and rocks." 
 
 Merchant of Venice. 
 
 * 
 
 '• Nay, I prithee, take it: 
 
 It is an earnest or a I'uture good 
 That I mean to thee." 
 
 Cymbeline. 
 
 LONDON: 
 PUBLISHED BY WHITTAKER AND CO. 
 
 AVK-31ARIA-LANE. 
 1833.
 
 '^^? 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 ^ — FAGS 
 
 Dedication ....... vii 
 
 Preface . . . . . . . . ix 
 
 Canto I. 1 
 
 Notes to Canto I. . . . . . . 49 
 
 Canto II. ....... 61 
 
 Notes to Canto II 109 
 
 Canto III 125 
 
 Notes to Canto III. . . . . . .167 
 
 Canto IV 175 
 
 Notes to Canto IV 215 

 
 TO 
 THE HONOURABLE 
 
 MRS. LEICESTER F. STANHOPE, 
 
 OF 
 
 " THE CEDARS," 
 
 PUTNEY, 
 
 SURREY. 
 
 Madam : 
 
 Twelve years have now elapsed since my arrival in 
 this country from India; and during that period I have 
 enjoyed, %vithout interruption, the distinguished hap- 
 piness of your acquaintance. You were then the source 
 and soul of enjojanent to those whom you honoured 
 with your friendship ; your o\ni happiness consisted 
 in contributing to that of others ; and, I may tridy say, 
 you were beloved by aU who had the happmess to know 
 you. Time has %vinged its way, and you are still the 
 same, — unaltered in your ^'irtues and mispoiled by the 
 world. Of your friends, may he, especially, who is 
 possessed of such a treasiu-e, Hve many years to enjoy 
 its worth ; and may that Httle innocent, who owns you
 
 VIU DEDICATION'. 
 
 by till' endearing apj)ell;iti()n of Mother, j)r()ve a present 
 (lelii^'lit and luture solace. 
 
 1 now, Madam, take the liberty of dedicating this 
 volume to you, in the ho|)e that you will consider it, 
 what it unalfectedly is, a genuine ottering of respect for 
 your virtues, and admiration of your talents ; as well as 
 a pure but humble testimony of grateful acknowledg- 
 ment for tile numerous acts of kindness which you 
 have been pleased to confer upon nic. 
 
 I have the honour to be, 
 Madam, 
 
 Your most obedient, 
 and devoted 
 
 humble servant, 
 
 THE AUTHOR.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 The reluctance which, on my first introduc- 
 tion to the pubUc, I evinced to prefix a Preface 
 to my work, was overcome by an apparent ne- 
 cessity: I now again plead necessity as the reason 
 for availing myself of an author's privilege. 
 
 The objects I have in view, in sending this 
 volume into the world, are manifold. The 
 primary one is, to keep myself in the eye 
 of that pubhc from which I have already ex- 
 perienced so favourable a reception ; of course 
 presenting myself under a form which, although 
 new, will not conceal that in which I received 
 the kindness. A secondary object is, to depict 
 in permanent colours, (fearful ambition !) im- 
 pressions which are forcibly retained on my mind, 
 of some of the many beauties and sublimities.
 
 PUEFACE. 
 
 over varyino-, and alwavs ititcM'estino;, of a sea 
 voyage. Tliese ini])ressions, to<5etlier with de- 
 lineations of marine scenery, I have endeavoured 
 to embody in tlie })resent poetic tale, some inci- 
 dents of which, however apparently impr()])able, 
 are deduced from real life. 
 
 Cradled in the world,- schooled on the ocean, 
 — the only merit I lay the remotest claim to, 
 (whatever further meed of praise the public 
 may award,) lies in the nautical portion of the 
 work, which, (and here I speak with some con- 
 fidence,) will be found in the main correct. 
 
 Even in this respect, however, some errors may 
 have escaped me ; and, should they meet the 
 eye of the nautical critic, I shall feel thankful 
 for his corrections. 
 
 As to the general composition of the Poem, 
 let it be borne in mind that this is a first 
 attempt ; and a first attempt, even in prosaic 
 literature, is entitled to, and, in my case, has 
 received, indulgence : but, in tiie lofty and 
 hazardous |)atli of poesy, the aspirant stands
 
 PREFACE. XI 
 
 in need of peculiar encouragement and support. 
 This my appeal will, I feel assured, not be made 
 in vain. 
 
 In connexion with the composition, I must 
 just advert to the metre. I have chosen the 
 Spenserian stanza ; and a comparison may, by 
 possibility, be instituted, which I shrink from. 
 1 am not vain enough to suppose that I shall 
 be accused of imitating Byron : but, if in any 
 instance this may appear to have been my inten- 
 tion, I protest that the resemblance is absolutely 
 casual, and can be a resemblance of form only. 
 I have adopted that stanza because I consider 
 it the best adapted to narrative and descriptive 
 poetry. 
 
 It was an observation of Goethe, that any 
 person disposed to write an entertaining and 
 useful book, may choose his subject from almost 
 any thing he sees, hears, or meets with in the 
 daily occurrences of life, be his occupation 
 what it may ; and that, he who succeeds in 
 depicting those occurrences in a way to interest, 
 performs a meritorious act, — to societv even a
 
 \ll PKEIAC'E. 
 
 benofici;iI one. If I quote (liiethe for the pur- 
 pose of ileprecatin<»- criticism as to my choice 
 of a subject, 1 lay niyscll' open to all the censure 
 vvliich is im])lic(l in the converse of the second 
 member of his proposition, — that failure is dis- 
 iirace. 
 
 [jlDtdOJly
 
 ERRATA. 
 
 Canto I.— Stanza LXXI., 8th line, for he read A«'. 
 
 Stanza LXXIX., 5th line, for buzy read busy. 
 II.— Stanza LXXIX., 5th line, for lost read tost. 
 Ill —Stanza V., 1st line, for Donalds read DoUonds\
 
 Z A R A. 
 
 CANTO I. 
 
 I. 
 
 'TwAS noon of night, as o'er the western sea, 
 A trading bark was bound for India's shore ; 
 
 The voice of seamen and their cheering glee, 
 Broke on the stiUness the wide ocean wore ; 
 
 The winds were hushed ; the cahn sea sullenly. 
 As if some waj^ward iU her bosom tore, 
 
 Heav'd her dumb plaints in undulating swells. 
 
 Like to the breast where silent passion dwells. 
 
 B
 
 ZARA. CANTO I. 
 
 II. 
 
 The sky was gcmin'd with clouds (1) that like tlie sea, 
 Were wrapt in sullen gloom, as if they staid. 
 
 Some soon expected mandate to be free. 
 To sc\id the space they then but overlaid ; 
 
 The stars were lost in dim innnensity; 
 Tlie moon was hid, and chary as a maid ; 
 
 No sound was heard save tales of love and slaughter, 
 
 And one long song about a — farmer's daughter. (2) 
 
 III. 
 
 The sounds thus breaking on the stillness roimd, — 
 From the fore part of the forecastle came ; 
 
 Wliere some few sailors o'er their grog were found. 
 Heedless of anytliing save fun or fame ; 
 
 To them the world was but a tinkling sound ; 
 Their sole ambition a good sailor's name ; 
 
 Their thoughts were all of grog — of war — or love, 
 
 Of ghosts and omens from the sky above.
 
 CANTO I. ZARA. 
 
 IV. 
 
 The vessel yaw'd and roll'd in sluggish way, 
 
 The leviathan of the dreary deep ; 
 She seemed a tiling endued with life that lay, 
 
 Secure and tranquil on the sea asleep ; 
 Against her masts her saOs flapp'd lazily ; 
 
 And o'er them you might see the cordage creep, 
 As creeping plants on India's soil that stay, 
 The pilgrim's weaiy footstep on his way. 
 
 V. 
 
 Abaft there lay some sailors nine or ten. 
 The afterguard of the first watch they were, 
 
 Who seemed to sleep as they lay scattered then. 
 As if no more to wake to this world's care ; 
 
 They slept the sleep of tars — a race of men. 
 Who sleep whene'er they can or any where ; 
 
 But few can tell the blissful state of sleep. 
 
 That seal the sailor's lids when on the deep. 
 
 b2
 
 ZARA. CANTO I. 
 
 VI. 
 
 The gim and orlop decks were crowded quite, 
 With hammocks neatly slung in parallel Hues ; 
 
 In all there lay three hundi'ed souls that night, 
 As dead to sense as were the sleeping winds ; 
 
 Hush'd was all somid save stifled sobs of fright, 
 
 That came from di-eaming wives or infants' whines ; 
 
 The wives of young recruits the women were, 
 
 Wliose di'eam was love, whose waking sense — was care. (3) 
 
 VII. 
 
 The long dra^^^l chorus of the song still rung, 
 
 A jovial peal of mimic harmony ; 
 But all were heedless what was said or sung. 
 
 Save one who in the hammock nettings lay. 
 Silent yet wakeful as a hawk among. 
 
 Her brood of nurslings eager for the prey ; 
 His eye was every where, (•1) — and liis whole mind. 
 Intent on omens of a rising wind.
 
 CANTO I. ZARA. 
 
 VIIL 
 
 'Twas Stanton the chief mate ; — a seaman ne, 
 
 Inm-ed to peril from his earliest day ; 
 His home a ship — his favorite theme the sea, 
 
 He heeded naught besides — nor what should sway, 
 The world's renown, or fate's unkind decree ; 
 
 The rough or smooth with hun soon passed away ; 
 His visage was most noble, and his eye, 
 Was bright as ever flash'd 'tween sea and sky. 
 
 IX. 
 
 The midnight horn- scarce had passed away. 
 When near a cabin-window's biu-nished side, 
 
 A sylph-like maiden beautiful as May, 
 Sat cahnly gazing on the ocean wide; 
 
 Her lily cheek on her fair hand she lay ; 
 
 And gently sigh'd yet knew not why she sigh'd. 
 
 She loved but one, nor ever loved another, 
 
 The one who near her slept — her widowed mother.
 
 6 ZARA. CANTO I. 
 
 Zaka it was : IJcr father was no more, 
 A prisoned tenant of a mould of clay ; 
 
 His soul had left its mortal coil to soar, 
 The boundless regions of eternal day ; 
 
 The light of life she saw the day before, 
 Her father's spirit iled from earth away ; 
 
 He fought and died for fame, and found it too. 
 
 On the fam'd field of blood-stained Waterloo. 
 
 XL 
 
 His dawiiing vision in a tent first gleam'd ; 
 
 His youthful years in Toprabanas' isle, (5) 
 Were cheerless fretted till kind fortune beam'd, 
 
 A ray of pleasure lit by Cupid's smile ; 
 'Twas then fair Zara's mother he redeemed, 
 
 From captive bonds when young and free from guile ; 
 Her native land and all she cherished dear, 
 JShe left fur TiiF.onoKi': — without a tear.
 
 CANTO I. ZARA. 
 
 XII. 
 
 She young and pretty was, and rather fair, 
 Compared with other dames of her own town ; 
 
 And though so young her glossy soft jet hair. 
 Reached from her forehead to her ancle down; 
 
 Light as a fawn her movements graceful were ; 
 Sweet was her smile, but terrible her frown ; 
 
 Yet did the lustre of her large dark eyes, 
 
 A transport beam you fain woidd idoKze. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Her dress was chaste and neat — yet tastefuUy, 
 Adapted to her chme ; that is to say, 
 
 She wore no caps (nor would she when at sea ;) 
 Nor bomiets either, rarely a tight stay ; 
 
 A muslin vest thrown o'er her gracefully. 
 In ample folds comprised her dress by day ; 
 
 Conceahng aU herself — save eyes and nose, 
 
 Her neat bare ancles, tiny feet, — and toes.
 
 § ZARA. CANTO I. 
 
 XIV 
 
 To Britain's shore he bore his youthful treasure, 
 
 Wlicrc for a wliilc they ])reathed — they lived — on love! 
 
 But love when true like every earthly pleasure, 
 Is sure to meet with crosses from above ; 
 
 And doubtless for our welfare — in some measure, 
 Or else the eyes had best beware to rove ; 
 
 For true it is, and pity 'tis in sooth, 
 
 "True love's a stream that never does rmi smooth." 
 
 XV. 
 
 Each morning did his lovely goddess smile, 
 
 A Paradise to his enamoured soul ; 
 'Twas her endearments only could beguile, 
 
 A melancholy he could scarce control ; 
 But one caress of hers, would, for a-while, 
 
 Plis inmost care — liis heart's " fell-sting," condole ; 
 Yet still he'd sigh, and soothing to her say, 
 '* Duty sweet love — will call me soon away."
 
 CANTO I. ZARA. 9 
 
 XVI. 
 
 'Twas so: — The Hero of the " Iron Crown," 
 Who rose by fame, and by ambition feU ; 
 
 The idol once of fortmie, till its fro\vn, 
 
 Dash'd from his brow the crown he won so weU ; 
 
 Had fled from Elba, and its little town. 
 Nor deigned the Briton his intention teU ; 
 
 So angered England rushed again to arms ; 
 
 Gaul — mad with joy — certain kings, — with qualms. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 The trump of war resomided thro' the land ; 
 
 The spirit stirring fife and hoUow drum. 
 Drew in their noisy train a motley band, 
 
 Of ragged m'chins ; and the day had come, 
 The pomp of war and music's magic wand. 
 
 The tocsin kneU'd of fatal strife to some ; 
 Leading a corps of infantry was seen. 
 The gay young Theodore — all clad in green.
 
 10 ZARA. CANTO I. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 The (lay hi-fore he parted with his bride, 
 In a fair way — 'ere long — to be a mother, 
 
 'Twas the first time lie ever did her chide ; 
 
 And then but mildly, 'cause she did not smother, 
 
 Moans unsuppressed, and tears she could not hide, 
 Nor cease to tell, she loved him, and no other ; 
 
 He pressed his weeping partner to liis breast, 
 
 And brcallietl a prayer for her, whom he caressed. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 The last embrace of those we dearly love, 
 Wliene'er we dare not hope to meet again, 
 
 Tlic dread distrust that o'er the features rove, 
 When bursts the sigh the breast can ne'er retain; 
 
 The rarewell lisp, — and look, — the last remove, 
 Of sjmipathizing souls in fondness twain ; 
 
 The climax constitutes of human woe. 
 
 And danijjs the love of Hfe wiiere'er we go.
 
 CANTO I. 
 
 ZARA. 11 
 
 XX. 
 
 Yomig Theodore, adored his friendless bride ; 
 
 He heard her farewell words of tenderness, 
 In English such that some woidd perhaps deride, 
 
 But such as well portrayed her sore distress, 
 And swell'd his bosom as a bursting tide, 
 
 And made him wish almost she loved him less ; 
 The last endearing words he heard her say. 
 Were, " come back — soon back — or go not away.' 
 
 XXL 
 
 Prolixity I hate ; so now I'll teU, 
 
 The fate that soon young Theodore befel ; 
 
 He bravely fought, and fighting — sudden feU, 
 
 Shot through the heart ; the cannon roar, his kneU ; 
 
 He died without a gi'oan, and it was w^eU ; 
 For dying moans could scarcely then impel. 
 
 The heart of friendsliip e'en, to give relief. 
 
 Or hsten to a dying comi'ade's gi'ief.
 
 12 ZARA. CANTO I. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Kind Heaven iu liis absence soothed his bride, 
 
 And dried her tears, and healed lier bleeding heart ; 
 
 Zara was born before her father died. 
 And to her bleeding bosom did impart, 
 
 A balm to sweet oblivion allied, 
 
 And so disarm VI the sting of sorrow's dart ; 
 
 Still the young widow had as yet to know. 
 
 The sad extent of her most dire woe. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 The mom was mild that ushered in the tale. 
 
 Of Theodore's doom ; 'twas told her by a fi-iend ; 
 
 And met by shrieks, and many a piercing wail. 
 So loud and long as if they ne'er would end ; 
 
 I'or oriental latlies seldom fail, 
 
 To weep aloud the woe their bosoms rend ; (G) 
 
 The shock once oer, liowe'er, they soon regain, 
 
 nieir lost composure, and forget \\\v \y,\'u\.
 
 CANTO I. ZARA. ]3 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Some years since this had sped their fleety way, 
 When Zara's mother breathed a last adieu, 
 
 To Britain's coast ; in hopes to see the day. 
 Of youthful joys restored, and to renew. 
 
 Her native customs long gone to decay, 
 
 Yet ever cherished dear ; for well she knew, 
 
 Cold England's humid chme iU suited her. 
 
 Or Zara either — her lovely daughter. (7) 
 
 XXV. 
 
 This brings me to the epoch of my tale. 
 That Zara fair, was gazmg on the sea ; 
 
 And the digress, I trust, will not curtail, 
 The testy critic's meed of praise to me ; 
 
 My readers, I presume, will scarcely fail. 
 To view the explication favourably ; 
 
 Indeed, without it they might wonder where. 
 
 The ladies came fi*om, and why they were there.
 
 11 ZARA. CANTO I. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Fair Zak A, as 1 said, gazctl on the sea ; 
 
 Her golden hair in clust'ring ringlets fell, 
 O'er forehead classic to sublimity ; 
 
 Tier penciled eyebrows dark became her well ; 
 And graced her long eye-lashes prettily ; 
 
 They seemed swift harbingers of thought, that swell, 
 The soul to tenderness ; while thro' her eyes, 
 Soft beam'd the charm all men so dearly prize. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 'Tis not the fiery eye — the leer, — the roll — 
 That wield the charm us men so dearly prize ; 
 
 It is the vivid radiance of the soul, 
 
 Revealing hidden wishes through the eyes ; 
 
 Too true to nature e'er to brook control, 
 Or quench the latent fires as they rise ; 
 
 Perhaps 'tis well, this charming eye is rare ; 
 
 Where e'er 'tis seen, delight still lingers there.
 
 CANTO I. ZARA. 1 
 
 /t 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 In my young days 'twas my auspicious lot, 
 To gaze on beauty, but without mucli harm ; 
 
 TiU suddenly I've winced as one — just shot, 
 
 Wlien o'er me glanced the eye that had this charm ; 
 
 Nor is that glance so easily forgot ; 
 
 The bosom long will thriU with love's alarm ; 
 
 'Tis ten'ible in love, as shot in war, 
 
 And may be called, I tliink, the — -je ne seals quoi. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Zara was slender made, and rather tail, 
 
 Endowed vdth charms most Indian ladies are ; 
 
 That is, her hands and feet were very small. 
 Extremely bland and gracefid was her air ; 
 
 In her affections warm, indeed, to aU, 
 
 Wlio spoke her kind, or felt for her a care ; 
 
 And when she griev'd her bosom half concealed, 
 
 Bespoke such charms that cannot be revealed.
 
 HI ZARA. CANTO I. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Slu- still gazed o'er the dead calm swelling sea; 
 
 And as she gazed she thouglit of Britain's shore ; 
 Of friends wlio cheered her youth so smilingly, 
 
 But wliom perhaps she never miglit see more ; 
 She tliouglit of pm-ling streams, the willow tree, 
 
 And fields of green she loved to ramble o'er ; 
 And other thoughts stole o'er her youthful mind. 
 But all of imioccnt and girlish-kind. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 It seemed as if a scrapli in the sky, 
 
 111 i)ity to such loveliness alone. 
 Had view'd her with a kindred's tender eye, 
 
 As one whose soul was spotless as its own ; 
 The clouds dispersing as a veil passed by ; — 
 
 The moon and stars in vicing lustre shone ; 
 'I'hc scene in short was changed in every way, 
 And imirky nii(hiight flittered light as day.
 
 CANTO I. ZARA. 17 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 The twinkling stars iUumed the clear blue sky 
 In gorgeous brilliancy profuse but grand, 
 
 Beyond compare with those that greet the eye, 
 In arctic regions or in England ; 
 
 Their glittering orbs to view, I know not why. 
 Impels the wings of fancy to expand. 
 
 To unseen worlds, of pure extatic bliss, 
 
 Unknown to dull mortahty in this. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 The silvery placid moon high pois'd in space, 
 Displayed her shining light unsparingly ; 
 
 And, with the stars, her fair full modest face. 
 Were seen reflected on the ocean glaringly ; 
 
 As if a looking-glass were there to trace, 
 The bark and seamen on the glossy sea ; 
 
 The deadly cahn stiU reign'd, no cloud was seen, 
 
 The sea a tint now wore of palish green. (8) 
 
 c
 
 18 ZARA. CANTO I. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 There fish of various hue, Lut chiclly gay, 
 Were sportive seen to glide in amorous play ; 
 
 The albicore, appeared a darkish grey, 
 The small boneta green ; and as the ray, 
 
 Of starlight strikes upon them they display, 
 A hue refulgent as they glide side way. 
 
 That glitters with a changeful radiant power, 
 
 'Tis sweet to contemplate at midnight hour. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 The dolphin too his amorous sport began. 
 And in his wake a shark passed slowly on ; 
 
 Nosing his pilot fish, who led the van. 
 In seeming grave solicitude to con, 
 
 Wliether a dead body or a tin can 
 
 Was the next morceau he could dine upon ; 
 
 l*iit lu" was cauglit next day — cut up — boiled — and — ate. 
 
 The doctor kept his backbone, his jawbone the mate.
 
 CANTO r. ZARA. 19 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 And many more there were I need not class ; 
 
 The ugly devil — and the flying fish, 
 Who meet a foe poor things where'er they pass; 
 
 (They make when stew'd a most delicious dish ;) 
 Their flights as ours often meet, (alas !) 
 
 A termination contra to the wish ; 
 Pursued by finny foes they tempt the air. 
 To fall a prey to hungry sea birds there. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 Our Zara viewed these beauties with dehght ; 
 
 The reigning stillness pleasingly serene. 
 Responded with her girhsh musings quite ; 
 
 She wondered if the silver moon were seen. 
 By friends she left in Westmorland, so bright ; 
 
 (But they were young girls — ^scarcely one sixteen ij 
 At length she weary grew ; she drooped her head. 
 And then disrob'd herself— and went to bed. 
 
 c 2
 
 .'0 Z A H A. CANTO I. 
 
 XXXV I II. 
 
 Disi'ob'd she was, asleep too in her bed ; 
 
 And wliere angelic maid I fain leave thee ; 
 Not for a kingdom would I have it said, 
 
 That I could e'er invade thy sanctity ; 
 Uut ii" — aye, //, — aside the veil were laid, 
 
 And eye, unseen, could rove luxm-iously; 
 Supposing, too, the naughty eye were — mine, 
 I'd naught reveal, believe me, — not a line. 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 No more the chorus of the song went round ; 
 
 Tlic hollow sounding bell had stricken eight ; (9) 
 The " starbolines" (10) were rous'd from sleep profomid, 
 
 Their turn now to relieve each weary mate, 
 Of the first watch; who heard the tinkling sound. 
 
 With greeting sweet and spirits quite elate; 
 And so the changing world fulfds its round ; 
 Fresh hands arise, — tlie old — sleep undergromid.
 
 CANTO I. ZARA. 21 
 
 XL. 
 
 The next and following clay there was no wind ; 
 
 In vain the sailor strained his eager sight, 
 A breeze or ripple on the sea to find ; 
 
 Naught met the eye save biu-ning sun-beams bright, 
 And far away a splash of furious kind, 
 
 That proved on nearer view to be a fight, 
 Between a wieldy sword fish and a whale, 
 Wlio lash'd the sea to surges with his tail. 
 
 XLI. 
 
 The sailors were engaged in various ways ; 
 
 In picking oakum, washing decks — and one, 
 Poor weakly youth had once seen happier days. 
 
 But who of hopes to see again — had none ; 
 Some sigh'd for home ; and others craved to raise, 
 
 Their languid spirits with a little nun ; 
 The boatswains' hands were sitting up the rigging, 
 The cuddy gents., were port and claret swigging.
 
 22 ZARA. CANTO I. 
 
 XLll. 
 
 Next ni<,flit a novel scene I must relate, 
 
 Ensued between Maria, Zara's maid. 
 And a young saucy midshipman nam'd Tate, 
 
 (Wlio always was a " wapvard wight," 'twas said;) (11) 
 Maria's native place — was Cripple-gate ; 
 
 And charms she had, but they began to fiule ; 
 Indeed she was of rather doubtful age, 
 But \ery sly — and grave — as any sage. 
 
 XLlll. 
 
 The youth had doubtless something to reveal, 
 Of purport pleasing to the cimning maid ; 
 
 Something, perhaps, conducive to her weal. 
 But little to her fancy — if delayed ; 
 
 So 'neath the guise of michiight's chowsy seal. 
 The pair conversed, (nor needed foreign aid ;) 
 
 On kind confiding subjects we'll suppose, 
 
 For long tliey causer d as 'twere, nose to nose.
 
 CANTO r. ZARA. 23 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 Concealed was he and quiet as the dead, 
 While she — poor soul — abash'd and half afraid, 
 
 Snug through her cabin window peered her head. 
 To hearken to the whispered nothmgs said ; 
 
 The youth at last by wayward venture led. 
 To sip a chaste salute, — a false step made, 
 
 And fell sans ceremonie into the sea. 
 
 Just abaft the larboard quarter-galleiy. (12) 
 
 XLV. 
 
 He fell so hghtly in the slumbering sea. 
 
 No one o'erheard the splash ; and when he rose. 
 
 He sadly fear'd his doom that night would be. 
 In Ocean's bed to take his final doze ; 
 
 And then he blamed his folly bitterly. 
 
 And wished the girl — in Heaven — I suppose; 
 
 He stoutly swam, and after no sKght pains. 
 
 He seized with ardent gripe the rudder chains.
 
 Ol. /A \{ A. CANTO I. 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 Thf riuUk-r gain'd he gladly sat astride, 
 
 And holla'd loud for help but was not heard ; 
 
 Wliile poor Maria wrung her hands and cried, 
 With wild affi-ight hut dared not say a word; 
 
 Her spotless fame she thought might be belied. 
 Or doubts of her morality inferred ; 
 
 She also fear'd the youth would soon expire, 
 
 And then she screamed for aid in accents dire. 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 Her loud alarms soon brought a host of eyes ; 
 
 A young poop boy with hagard cheek and wan, 
 First lieard the li-ighted youth's imploring cries. 
 
 And told the marvel news to all the clan; 
 In short, he u}) was hauled 'mid strange surmise. 
 
 And pale and wan ahnost, as a dead man ; 
 Had a breeze spriuig up, or a sly shark passed, 
 Tliis convcrzationc — had been his last.
 
 CANTO I. ZARA. 25 
 
 XLVIIL 
 
 The dull dead cabii still reigned in sluggish way ; 
 
 The superstitious feelings of a few, 
 Found vent in murmurs deep firom day to day ; 
 
 'Twas thought a Jonas was among the crew ; 
 And some had the temerity to say, 
 
 Who was the Jonas they were sure they knew ; 
 But all agreed so very long a calm, 
 A sure precursor was of coming harm. 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 Another omen tliro' the ship then spread ; 
 
 A Persian cat — a favorite on board — 
 Three kittens littered, one without a head ; 
 
 Poor puss was drown'd tho' some her fate deplor'd ; 
 And then the boatswain confidently said, 
 
 A dusky cloud to the so-east had lour'd. 
 And ere the full moon rose they'd have a breeze, 
 Wliich set the minds of half the crew at ease.
 
 26 ZARA. CANTO I. 
 
 L. 
 
 Tilt' l)oats\vain's sage prediction proved too true ; 
 
 A breeze did come, the evening of that day, 
 So iierce, the seamen well the change might rue. 
 
 And cease to wish the good old cahn, away ; 
 'Twas in the middle watch, when all the crew, 
 
 (Save the first mate,) in quiet slumber lay, 
 The bark was ta'en aback, with what they call. 
 In tropic seas — or China — a — white squall. (13) 
 
 LI. 
 
 The screaming blast the welkin fiercely hurl'd; 
 
 The ocean shewed her foamy troubled crest. 
 In fier}' fiakes of hissing brine that cuiTd, 
 
 In vivid glares wher'ere the eye could rest ; 
 The sails aback the masts were densely whirl'd ; 
 
 The helmsman was cdert and did his best ; 
 But ore the hehn was up, the topmasts went — 
 Over the side, lier courses too were rent.
 
 CANTO I. ZARA. 27 
 
 LII. 
 
 'Tis terrible to hear the deaf 'ning brawl, 
 Of sailors and their officers at sea, 
 
 Just on the onset of a storm or squall, 
 
 When falls the creeking, heavy liu'ch, to lee ; 
 
 It seems a death yell wafted over all — 
 A summons du*e to eternity ; 
 
 While howls so wild and fiendish rend the an*, 
 
 You'd think a host of demons revell'd there. 
 
 LIIL 
 
 The boatswain summon'd every tar on deck, 
 And fierce and dismal was the billows' roar ; 
 
 Amid the din the sailors cleared the wreck, 
 And patient thro' the night their labour bore ; 
 
 Affrighted Zara o'er her mother's neck. 
 
 Confessed the dread her panting bosom tore ; 
 
 The tender lady ridiculed her fears. 
 
 Fondled her pet, and dried her flowing tears.
 
 Z ARA. CANTO I. 
 
 LTV. 
 
 The vessel bore away beluic the squall, 
 
 At the fleet rate of fourteen knots an hour ; (H) 
 
 As howFcl the wind and waves, the sailors call 
 In hoarse behests was often heard to lour ; 
 
 The sky a gloomy darkness frown'd o'er all ; 
 And then there fell a sudden pelting shower, 
 
 Of heavy hail that patter'd down as fast, (15) 
 
 As for a wager they were downward cast. 
 
 LV. 
 
 A settled rain then drenched the weary crew. 
 For tlu-ce dark days and nights or thereabout, 
 
 And every man and boy was quite wet through. 
 The rain still pouring like a water-spout ; 
 
 The dense dark scud swift as an eagle flew ; 
 
 And 'tween their dusky way the moon peep'd out 
 
 'l\\v liowliiig l)ree/,e in hollow iimniiurs l)()re, 
 
 The vessel thro' the gushing surges' roar.
 
 CANTO I. 
 
 ZARA. 29 
 
 LVI. 
 
 At sea 'tis wretched on a rainy day ; 
 
 And yet it cannot rightly be inferred, 
 The sailors mind it ; I have heard some say, 
 
 A sailor is a kind of water bird, 
 Who dries his jacket by the fair sun's ray ; 
 
 But never in my travels have I heard, 
 A dainty landsman say he liked the sea, 
 Wliene'er the decks were wet and slippery. 
 
 LVII. 
 
 'Tis not surpassing snug I must confess. 
 To tread the deck when slippery and wet. 
 
 And gaze upon the water's wilderness. 
 And view the bubbles on the ocean met ; 
 
 To grasp wet cordage — the rain pityless, 
 Down pouring o'er you like a rivulet ; 
 
 But casual ills as these, and many more. 
 
 E'en landsmen will endure for — yellow ore.
 
 30 ZARA. CANTO I. 
 
 LVITT. 
 
 The rain in torrents batli'd the recking bark, 
 All thro' the night and on the following day ; 
 
 And like the bark of yore — (I mean — Noah's ark,) 
 She bore the drench and bore the billows sway ; 
 
 The next night brought a gale, and was pitch dark, 
 And fierce and lofty beat the dashing spray ; 
 
 But no matter ! new masts were up and rigg'd. 
 
 And man and boy a dram of arrack swigg'd. 
 
 LIX. 
 
 The gale and rain next day completely ceased ; 
 
 And then there rose a light yet settled air. 
 From the north east, and all on board were pleased ; 
 
 It was, as sailor's say, directly — " fair ;" 
 The heavy Im'ches of the ship were eas'd ; 
 
 And mu'th and music reign'd, instead of care ; 
 In short, she sailed as pleasant and serene, 
 As pleasure yachts on Father Thames are seen.
 
 CANTO I. ZARA. 31 
 
 LX. 
 
 The light air freshen'd, and at length assum'd 
 A steady breeze ; the sails were quickly spread ; 
 
 And, as the moon and stars the sea illmn'd, 
 Each wave was seen to curl its ripply head ; 
 
 The air with balmy fragrance was perfimi'd ; 
 And the ship's shadow on the ocean sped. 
 
 In seeming rapidness just o'er the lee, 
 
 As ghding o'er the fleet foam merrily. 
 
 LXI. 
 
 They bore away exactly south-south-west, 
 TenerifFe passing the preceding week. 
 
 Soaring above the clouds its tap'ring crest, 
 
 Of constant snow 'mid hollow blasts and bleak ; 
 
 Some pirates, it was rmnour'd did infest. 
 The southern seas to prey upon the weak ; 
 
 So night and day they kept a sharp look-out. 
 
 But not a sail appear'd to cross their route.
 
 •32 ZvVRA. CANTO I. 
 
 LXII. 
 
 The nights were beautiful — so were the days ; 
 
 The fiery sun in radiant splendour rose, 
 DiiFusing far and wide his golden rays, 
 
 And lull'd the troubled ocean to repose ; 
 The crew were occupied in various ways, 
 
 But all were joyous, and forgot their woes; 
 The soldiers' wives — their husbands too, indeed, 
 Were pleas'd as lawyers are, when paid, or fee'd. 
 
 LXIII. 
 
 The laches now were rob'd with all the art 
 Of female grace, — delighted, and delighting ; 
 
 Their ev'ry smile and gesture did impart, 
 A pleasing charm — to sailors quite inviting ; 
 
 Their veiy laugh seem'd eclioed fi-oni the heart- 
 A voice of merriment and love uniting; 
 
 Ccr/cs on deck, at sea, tlu' prettiest sight, 
 
 Is ladies walking, on a moon-light night.
 
 CANTO I. ZARA. S3 
 
 LXIV. 
 
 The cuddy is a kind of mess-room, where 
 
 The captain does the " honours" of the tahle , 
 
 In other words he's pleased to take the " chair," 
 And sometimes aims at — wit, if he is able ; 
 
 But e'en the best of them we may compare, 
 (That is with few exceptions,) to the fable ; 
 
 I mean the doiikey in the lion's skin. 
 
 Who bray'd but once — and thus confessed his kin. 
 
 LXV. 
 
 I say with few exceptions ; — there are some 
 
 Exceeding witty fellows in their way; 
 But imder Neptime's trident they become. 
 
 As rough and lordly as the billow's sway ; 
 And so reserved — you'd ahnost think'em dumb. 
 
 Or sullen dolts who know not what to say ; 
 But like the world — some smooth there are — some rough, 
 Some too much feeling have — some not enough. 
 
 D
 
 34 ZARA. CANTO I. 
 
 LXVI. 
 
 Thf cuddy furnished was in ])rinccly way ; 
 
 Its dtck a costly Brussels cai-pct lined; 
 And on the panncls flasli'd a bright display, 
 
 Of polisli'd arms in crescent forms entwined; 
 The costly sideboards splendid were, and gay. 
 
 And on tliem massive jjlate, and cliina shined ; 
 With three sea views with birds upon the wing, 
 By Ht'GGiNS done, now painter to the King. 
 
 LXVII. 
 
 n lie table kept was sumptuous I must say ; 
 
 Hot rolls had they for breakfast and bohea, 
 Cold fowl and hani and jellies — every day, 
 
 With cocoa, eggs new laid, and rich coffee. 
 At dinner, viands reeking savoury, — 
 
 llicli soups — pulaws — old wines and ratifie ; 
 lUit one line morning — ('twas a sad mishap,) 
 A cuj) of liot tea fell on Zaka's — lap.
 
 CANTO I. ZARA. 35 
 
 LXVIII. 
 
 Then rose the blush in crimson flashes o'er, 
 Her ivory neck in eloquent display ; 
 
 Some tliirty gentlemen were there or more, 
 And what was whispered round I will not say : 
 
 But certes 'tis, the petit affaire tore, 
 
 Poor Zara's breast to tortures all that day ; 
 
 In truth — the ship just gave a naughty Iru-ch ; 
 Before as steady, ahnost, as a chmxh. 
 
 LXIX. 
 
 There's something charming in the crimson hue, 
 Of maiden blushes and the dovmcast eye ; 
 
 The imnost thought seems half revealed to view ; 
 And did not pity interpose a sigh, 
 
 There are of men I fear but very few, 
 Who would not gaze, and gazing — deify ; 
 
 But save the savage of the wilderness, 
 
 Wlioe'er could tortm-e beauty in distress ? 
 
 D 2
 
 ^G ZAllA. CANTO I. 
 
 LXX. 
 
 liut to proceed ; the breeze continued fair, 
 And onward bore the bark from day to day ; 
 
 Nearing tlie stormy Cape of Afric, where 
 
 Tlie sceptred storm maintains terrific sway; (16) 
 
 And where, at night, the sailors still declare, 
 The flpng Dutchman's seen off Table-Bay ;(17) 
 
 Disporting in the storm his flying kites. 
 
 And mann'd witli blanch'd and terrifying sprights. 
 
 LXXI. 
 
 This may be true, as certainly may not ; 
 
 The times are altered since the world begun ; 
 The miracles of old seem near forgot. 
 
 And many deem the phantom age, quite done; 
 And so believed the late Sir Walter Scott; (18) 
 
 He differed with the leam'd doctor — Johnson ; 
 ^\^l() thought witli Addison, that sprights have been, 
 And may he still, tho' somewhat rarely seen.
 
 CANTO I. ZARA. 37 
 
 LXXIL 
 
 A breeze, Kke ladies' favours, wall decline ; 
 
 In this uncertain world we ever find, 
 The sweets of pleasure fleeting as sunshine, 
 
 And cheering hope deceitful as the wdnd; 
 Thus smiles and frowns too frequently combuie, 
 
 To solace and perplex the sanguine mind ; 
 Until the last, sad scene, relieves aB care. 
 Once in the grave — there's no disquiet there. 
 
 LXXIII. 
 
 The breeze before so pleasant and so fair, 
 Now died away ; and was succeeded by 
 
 A hght and bland but variable air, 
 "With certain indications in the sky. 
 
 Of coming rain ; and water-spouts were there, (19) 
 Based on the ocean — soaring sleek and high, 
 
 Just like a trumpet of unearthly size, 
 
 From ocean's surface tow'ring to the skies.
 
 38 ZARA. CANTO I. 
 
 LXXIV. 
 
 Again our bark niacle very little way, 
 The dying air veering to the southward ; 
 
 So that the vessel was, as sailors say, 
 
 " Close on a wind," licr larboard tacks on board ; 
 
 Her sails flapp'd idly 'gainst each mast and stay. 
 And gathering clouds above them darkly loui-'d ; 
 
 Until at night their surcharg'd founts gushed down, 
 
 In torrents such as 'twere our bark to drown. 
 
 LXXV. 
 
 And this was fortunate ; the harrass'd crew, 
 Had languish'd long in troublesome distress, 
 
 For water, and had quite enough to do, 
 To slake their stimulated thii'sts, far less 
 
 To cook their favourite dish — an Irish stew ; 
 But mm-murings at sea you'd best suppress ; 
 
 There, redress of grievances are limited. 
 
 And grumbling, expressly is prohibited.
 
 CANTO I. ZARA. 39 
 
 LXXVI. 
 
 The least disposed their murmurs to suppress — 
 The most averse to lenient control — ■ 
 
 The most determined to be comfortless — 
 And deaf to every effort of condole, 
 
 To temporize the evil of distress, — 
 
 Were the poor soldiers' wives ; and it was droll. 
 
 To see the smiles produced by pom'ing rain, 
 
 Theu' husbands tried, but tried m vain, to gain. 
 
 LXXVII. 
 
 On deck the awnings fore and aft were spread ; 
 
 And they, (the better to admit the rain,) 
 Were pierc'd with rents, compressed with shot and lead. 
 
 The water gushing — as from a fountam ; 
 The women and the childi-en then were fed, 
 
 With tea, pea-soup, and Irish stew again; 
 The females in particular were pleased. 
 Until the rain very suddenly, ceased.
 
 U) ZARA. CANTO I. 
 
 LXXVIII. 
 
 Scarce had the sun heaiiis gUttered sinilinglv, 
 When sound of distant firing broke upon 
 
 The lambent air, apjJarently to lee ; 
 
 And, as the shade of sable night drew on. 
 
 The rumbling peal resounded o'er the sea, 
 Tn murmurs hollow as from large cannon ; 
 
 'Twas not till late at night the solemn roar, 
 
 Was hush'd, and all was quiet as before. 
 
 LXXIX. 
 
 Two sailor boys were sent aloft to scan, 
 The ocean round before the sun had set, 
 
 And as they up the rigging nimbly ran, 
 And ere their eyes the distant waters met, 
 
 Tlie buz of buzy whisperings began. 
 
 To spread on deck ; ior most on board as yet, 
 
 To cannon's roar were new, unless in jest. 
 
 And some then thought that kind of firing best.
 
 CANTO, r. 
 
 ZARA. 41 
 
 LXXX. 
 
 The boys were pleased as they could wish to be ; 
 
 They ran aloft with gay and merry faces ; 
 But as the captain keenly eyed the sea, 
 
 His \'isage wore of thought profound, strong traces ; 
 His restless step betrayed anxiety ; 
 
 And stern he was, as frequently the case is 
 With sea commanders whene'er symptoms rise. 
 Of coming ill, or danger by surprise. 
 
 LXXXI. 
 
 His short suspense was very soon allay 'd ; 
 
 The ready hail was made — " No sail in sight !" 
 The boys, however, on the cross-trees staid, 
 
 To keep their wiUing watch until the night. 
 Her curtain closed upon the day decayed, 
 
 Concealing objects from the vision quite ; 
 All then was speculation and surmise, 
 From whence and why the firing could arise.
 
 ii* ZARA. CANTO I. 
 
 LXXXII. 
 
 'Twas thuuglit by some a contest had ensued, 
 Between a British cruizer and a slaver ; 
 
 And tlin)U[ili tlie night the darkly sea was view'd, 
 With vii'^cY eye hy almost all — save her 
 
 Of angel form and seraph mind endued — 
 1 mean our lovely h(>roine — Zara ; 
 
 Of ill regardless as a gentle dove, 
 
 She sightl for naught besides her motlier's love. 
 
 LXXXIII. 
 
 Tlrr cabin was a marine paradise, 
 
 Bedeek'd with smiles ; the eye with transjjort greets 
 Enow of life's ahurements to suffice 
 
 The youtiiful heart with glachiess when it beats ; 
 Herself a gem an anchorite inight 'tice, 
 
 His cell to quit to court less holy sweets ; 
 And siie, like all her sex, (the young 1 mean), 
 Believ'd the lnid.s of bliss were — "ever-green."
 
 CANTO I. ZARA. 4S 
 
 LXXXIV. 
 
 She knew not bliss, witliheld her angel smile, 
 Wlien clays of youth and innocence were past ; 
 
 She never dream'd 'twas tedious to beguile 
 A passing day, when her's all flew so fast ; 
 
 She never thought the vapoiurs or the bile, 
 
 Would e'er with clouds her pretty brow o'ercast ; 
 
 Far less coidd she tell, when youth was fled. 
 
 The senses slept in apathy's dull bed. 
 
 LXXXV. 
 
 Not always gay was she, but took delight, 
 To Ksten moimiful to the sea-breeze sigh ; 
 
 To watch the swift approach of lovely night, (20) 
 The rolling waves in myriads amble by, 
 
 Tinged with the silv'ry streaks of sheen moonlight, 
 And shrouded by the clear blue starry sky. 
 
 And hearken to the foamy gushing surge, 
 
 That 'neath her cabin-window would emerge.
 
 1 1 Z ARA. CANTO I. 
 
 LXXXVI. 
 
 "l\va.s then ciitliusiasm's magic power, 
 
 Would raise a secoiid Eden in her breast ; 
 
 And then, slie'd seize her harp, at midnight hour, 
 (Wliene'er her mother had not ta'en her rest). 
 
 And as a vestal in a lonely bower, 
 
 Would chant a requiem for the distress'd ; 
 
 Her lay was solenni — but exceeding sweet; 
 
 'Twould nKikc your heart with pious fervour beat. 
 
 LXXXVII. 
 
 And oft the sailors of the watch would listen, 
 \\ ith uncouth pleasure to the silver sounds ; 
 
 Many — a young and brightened eye woidd ghsten. 
 With transport such that ahnost knew no bounds, 
 
 And such that e'en the watch-call could not lessen ; 
 
 For they love music where'er it abomids ; 
 And other sweets less pure in their droll way, 
 ]Jut hard's their toil, and short's their pleasure day.
 
 CANTO I. ZARA. . 45 
 
 LXXXVIII. 
 
 At other times her harp aside she'd lay ; 
 
 And when the night was very light and mild, 
 Would think of words she'd heard her mother say, 
 
 (For she was quite imagination's child), 
 And those of others vers'd in worldly way, 
 
 And skill'd in abstruse things of ever}' kmd, 
 From whom she learnt the moon and heavenly host. 
 Were peopled worlds in countless numbers lost. 
 
 LXXXIX. 
 
 And as she \aew'd the full moon in the sky, 
 
 She thought what goodly beauties might be there ; 
 
 What sightly woods on moimtains towering high, 
 What piu-Kng brooks in happy valleys — where. 
 
 The pleasure-tear might moisten many an eye. 
 Alike midew'd with anguish, «s with care ; 
 
 Then o'er her hai-p-strings would her fingers bound, 
 
 And sweetly would the plaintive strains resound.
 
 46 ZAIIA. CANTO I. 
 
 XC. 
 
 And swcotlv pleasinfif prnvod tlio mmnonts wlicn- 
 'Mid soothing reverie and music's power, 
 
 And eye niatcrn' tliat hoani'd so fondly then, 
 Slie wiled away the silent midnight hour ; 
 
 But little could her girlish fancy ken, 
 The lurking ills that o'er a sea-life lour. 
 
 Or, well 1 ween, her yoimg and guileless breast. 
 
 Would little more of pleasure know — or rest. 
 
 XCI. 
 
 Perhaps 'tis well futurity's dark veil, 
 
 Conceals impending evils from our \iew ; 
 
 And fears the timid and the brave assail, 
 And ills the bravest of the brave might rue, 
 
 Are nothing kno^vn ; the heart corroding wail 
 For coming harm is felt by very few; — 
 
 Tlu- most by those whose earthly doom is seal'd- 
 
 With fatal terrors suddenly reveal'd.
 
 CANTO I. 
 
 ZARA. 47 
 
 XCII. 
 
 But fancy's rovings, wane like other things ; 
 
 Deep sleep came o'er fair Zara's guileless eye ; 
 As reckless time with ever restless wings, 
 
 Will always onward mu'esisting fly ; 
 Thus sleep her balmy solace kindly brings, 
 
 To solace and refresh us — till we die ; 
 But lest my readers, too, should want repose, 
 I think I now my first Canto will close. 
 
 XCIII. 
 
 I'll wish them all a short but kind farewell, 
 And entertainment from the next canto ; 
 
 There they may read the strange things that befel. 
 Our heroine, and the bark and cargo ; 
 
 And there, perhaps, an early page may tell, 
 
 Wlience distant firing came, fjrom fr-iend or foe ; 
 
 With many facts now wrapt in mystery. 
 
 Connected with our tale or history.
 
 IS ZARA. CANTO I. 
 
 XCIV. 
 
 But cvc I close 1 trust 'twill not escape, 
 My readers recollection that the ship, 
 
 Was heating to the southward, off the Cape ; 
 Another fact my graphic pen let slip ; 
 
 Her guns were shotted well with round and grape ; 
 In short she bore a full warlike equip; 
 
 And now I think I've nothing more to say. 
 
 So go, my first canto, and—" live your day." 
 
 END OF THE FIRST CANTO.
 
 NOTES TO CANTO I. 
 
 E
 
 NOTES TO CANTO I. 
 
 STANZA II. 
 
 (1) " The sky was gemmed with clouds" 
 
 In the southern latitudes the clouds, especially in a calm, 
 frequently assume an appearance of delicate beauty which 
 excites the astonishment and admiration of those inhabi- 
 tants of northern climes who observe it for the first time. 
 The firmament seems, as it were, dotted with small and 
 delicate clusters of moss, of a pure and beautiful white, 
 which being stationary, as they are in a calm, appear to be 
 there merely for ornament until they are dispersed by a 
 rising breeze or propelled onward and converted into 
 scud. 
 
 (2) " And one long song about — a farmer's daughter" 
 
 This song was a great favourite with the crew of the ship 
 in which the author came to England. With the chorus, 
 the ^^ farmer s daughter" the sailors were all highly de- 
 lighted, and made it resound through the ship night after 
 
 E 2
 
 52 NOTES. CANTO t. 
 
 night in tlu: trades, after sun-set, when scarcely any duty 
 was required of them, and when, consequently, they were 
 allowed to follow such pursuits as best suited their inclina- 
 tion ; and these were almost wholly confined to singing, danc- 
 ing, and story-telling. 
 
 STANZA VI. 
 
 (3) " JVhose dream was love, whose waking sense was care,'' 
 
 It is painful to witness the demoralizing tendency of con- 
 finement on board ship of English women, the wives of 
 soldiers, and still more the baneful influence of a tropical 
 climate on their constitutions and morals when they arrive 
 in India. That innate modesty for which our country- 
 women are proverbially celebrated, wears off by degrees, 
 and they too frequently fall a prey to dissipation and vicious 
 courses. 
 
 STANZA VII. 
 
 (4) " His eye was every where." 
 
 A figure of speech very common on board ship. So vigi- 
 lant is the eye of a good seaman, that a foot of rope can 
 scarcely be out of its place and escape his detection.
 
 CANTO I. NOTES. 53 
 
 STANZA XI. 
 
 ^5) " His youthful years in Toprabana's isle." 
 
 Ceylon, the supposed Taprobana of Ptolemy. As far as 
 scenic beauty is concerned, it is one of the most splendid 
 islands on the habitable globe. Vegetation may be almost 
 seen starting into life at every step ; and footpaths, which 
 to-day are cleared away to form a passage for some parti- 
 cular purpose, may to-morrow be entangled by creeping- 
 plants, and be almost impassable. The females of Ceylon 
 are gifted with forms unsurpassed for beauty in any coun- 
 try, although in point of feature they are less remarkable, 
 unless in some instances for ugliness. The climate of this 
 fine island is almost as fatal to European constitutions as 
 that of Java. — See Bishop Heber's Journal. 
 
 STANZA XXIII. 
 
 (6) " For oriental ladies seldom fail 
 
 To weep aloud the woe their bosoms rend." 
 
 To an European the chamber of woe, in the domicile of 
 an oriental family, afibrds no small astonishment. On the 
 first announcement of death, the relatives beat their fore- 
 heads, tear their hair, and wail and shriek, — 
 
 " So long and loud as if they ne'er would end."
 
 54 NOTES. CANTO i. 
 
 Custom is an infallible preceptor in things of this sort. It 
 is, however, but fair to admit that the ladies of India pos- 
 sess great sensibility ; and that, therefore, thewailings with 
 which they rend the air are not all acted in conformity with 
 custom. 
 
 STANZA XXIV. 
 
 (7) " Cold England's humid clime ill suited her. 
 Or Zara either, her lovely daughter." 
 
 Very few oriental ladies enjoy either health or happiness 
 
 in Europe. It is in general a cruelty to transplant these 
 
 delicate flowers to so ungenial a climate as that of its more 
 
 northern parts. 
 
 STANZA XXXIII. 
 
 (8) " The deadly calm still reigned, no cloud was seen. 
 The sea a tint now wore of palish green." 
 
 The colour of the sea is subject to as many transitions as 
 that of the camelion ; and it is influenced by various causes 
 — such as the distance from land — the depth of water — the 
 state of the atmosphere, clear or humid — the brightness or 
 dimness of the sun's rays — and, above all, the clearness of 
 the heavens. In general, however, the colour of the sea, 
 say a thousand miles from land, with a full sunshine and a 
 dear blue sky, is beautifully blue : by moonlight, it is 
 usually a light green.
 
 CANTO I. 
 
 NOTES. 55 
 
 STANZA XXXIX. 
 
 (9) " The hollow -sounding hell had stricJcen eight." 
 The ship's bell strikes every half-hour, until the eighth 
 half-hour inclusive, when it recommences, and so on 
 through the four-and-twenty hours, except at what is called 
 the "dog-watch;" that is, from 4 to 6 p.m. and from 
 6 to 8 p. m. WTien the ship's crew are in two watches, the 
 dog-watch is so regulated as to give them alternately, night 
 after night, a change of watch ; otherwise, the middle- 
 watch (for instance, from 12 to 4 a. m.) would fall inva- 
 riably on the same individuals, and consequently subject 
 them to great hardship. 
 
 (10) " The starbolines were roused from sleep profound." 
 The watches at sea are designated "starboard" and 
 " larboard ;" and the boatswain, in piping the watch calls, 
 " Starboard watch, a-hoy !" or, 
 
 " Starbolines, a-hoy ! 
 " Larbolines, a-hoy !" 
 
 STANZA XLII. 
 
 (11) " And a young, saucy midshipman, named Tate, 
 
 (Who always was a ' ivayward wight,' 'twas said.)" 
 
 This young fellow's " time " to sleep his final sleep in 
 the ocean had not, it seems, " then come ;" but I lament
 
 .56 NOTES. CANTO i. 
 
 to say he subscqxicntly met with a watery grave in Asia. 
 He conimanded a country brig there, and, having fallen 
 overboard in a squall, was lost. 
 
 STANZA XLIV. 
 
 (12) '* And fell sans ceremonie into the sea, 
 
 Just abaft the larboard quarter-gallery." 
 
 The extreme after-part of the ship, forming the angle of 
 the stem. 
 
 STANZA L. 
 
 (13) " The bark was taen aback with what they call, 
 In eastern seas, or China, ' a white squall.' " 
 
 The white squall is very dangerous, and occurs mostly 
 in low latitudes. It gives no warning of its approach, either 
 by a cloud or a ripple of the water, but rushes on instan- 
 taneously, and frequently carries away the masts, and even 
 upsets the vessel. 
 
 STANZA LIV. 
 
 (14) " Tlie vessel bore away before the squall 
 
 At the fleet rate of fourteen miles an hour." 
 
 This may appear a rapid rate of sailing for a trading 
 vessel ; but it certainly occurred under the author's obser-
 
 CANTO I. 
 
 NOTES. 57 
 
 vation ; when, (as says the hackneyed phrase,) " the cap- 
 tain hove the log, and the chief mate held the glass." 
 
 (15) " Of heavy hail, that pattered down as fast, 
 As for a wager they were downward cast." 
 
 Hail frequently falls in tropical seas, especially near the 
 equinoctial. The showers, however, are merely transient. 
 The author once witnessed a greater marvel, a shower of 
 young fiy ; they had doubtless been absorbed by a water- 
 spout, or by the attraction of the solar rays. 
 
 STANZA LXX. 
 
 (16) " The sceptred storm maintains terrific sway." 
 
 The Cape may be appropriately designated the •' monarch 
 of the storm." In no other part of the world does the sea, 
 in a storm, present so terrible and sublime an aspect ; to the 
 description of which both the power of language, and the 
 painter's skill, are totally inadequate. 
 
 (17) " And where at night the sailors still declare 
 
 The Flying Dutchman's seen off Table Bay." 
 
 The legend of the spectre-ship off the Cape, yclept the 
 " Flying Dutchman," is well known to seamen; but for the 
 satisfaction of those who may be unacquainted with its 
 origin, and who may be tinctured wdth the curiosity pe- 
 culiar to the superstitious mind, I shall merely record that
 
 58 • NOTES. 
 
 CANTO I. 
 
 it has been handed down in the following form upwards of 
 a century. At a certain period, when the Cape was in the 
 possession of the Dutch, it was usual to prohibit the entrance 
 of ships into Table Bay in stormy weather. On one stormy 
 day, a Dutch merchantman crowded with passengers and 
 troops attempted to enter the Bay, in defiance of the pro- 
 hibitory flag then hoisted to prevent him. Distress for 
 water and provisions, together with the sinking state of the 
 vessel, urged the captain to persist in his attempt until the 
 batteries drove him to sea, when the ship and all the crew 
 perished in sight of the spectators on shore ; since which 
 time, the ship is said to haunt those seas, and especially 
 at the midnight hour, to — 
 
 " Desport in storms his flying kites, 
 
 Mann'd witli blanch'd and tcrrifving sprights." 
 
 STAXZA LXXI. 
 
 (18) " And so believed the late Sir Walter Scott." 
 
 The author presented to a relative of Lady Peschell an 
 autograph of the deceased and lamented bard, confirmatory 
 of this persuasion. 
 
 STANZA LXXIII. 
 
 (19) " And water-spouts were there." 
 
 Water-spouts are extremely dangerous. Should one of 
 them discharge its contents over a vessel, it would in all
 
 CANTO I. NOTES. 59 
 
 likelihood sink her. Men-of-war frequently salute these 
 visitors with a shot, which bursts the spout, and the dis- 
 charged water rushes down on the ocean with a tremendous 
 roar. 
 
 STANZA LXXXV. 
 
 (20) " To watch the swift approach of lovely night." 
 
 The swiftness of the approach of night in tropical seas 
 is proverbial.
 
 Z A R A. 
 
 CANTO II. 
 
 A SPLENDID star poetic lately said, 
 (I quote decidedly from memory), 
 
 " Nothing perplexes more the poet's head 
 Than opening well a canto of poesy ;" 
 
 But Horace, whom at school I sometimes read. 
 Says, " To begin — (and with him I agree) — 
 
 Is half the work :" the matter thus cut short, 
 
 I'll now proceed precisely as I ought.
 
 ()~ ZAllA. CANTO II. 
 
 II. 
 
 In tropic seas 'tis sweet at break of day, 
 Ere lovely east displays her crimson hue,(l) 
 
 Tu view the rising of the solar ray, 
 In irridiscent tints of gold and blue; 
 
 ,Tis sweet to contemplate the scene and lay 
 Recluse to lee, apart from all the crew; 
 
 There to recall the sanguine dreams of youth, 
 
 Wild as a visioji just as void of truth. 
 
 III. 
 
 At rising of the glorious orb of day, 
 
 Fresh peering o'er the ambient rolling sea, 
 
 Beaming afar his bright celestial ray, 
 From east to west, beneath a canopy 
 
 Of clear blue, cloudless, spotless sky, I say 
 'Tis then the di'eams of earthly bliss may be 
 
 Devoid of fallacy, for one brief hour — 
 
 In admiration of Creation's power.
 
 CANTO II. 
 
 ZARA. 63 
 
 IV. 
 
 And sweet it is amid such scenes as these, 
 
 To con the sequel of a lover's tale ; 
 Or epic poem ; — Milton, if you please ; 
 
 Myself prefer the works the heart assail 
 With themes of tenderness or grief, or tease 
 
 With doubt and deep suspense ; these seldom fail 
 To meet my taste precisely, if the're true, 
 Or based on truth (as mine) or they'll not do. 
 
 V. 
 
 To read of Milton's Eve is harrowing. 
 As out of Eden she was weeping cast ; — 
 
 And JuHet's woes the tender heart will sting. 
 As in her arms her Romeo breathed his last ; 
 
 But Effie-Dean, who fam to hope would chng. 
 Thro' her sad trial, and when it was past. 
 
 Is rich beyond compare, except the griefs, 
 
 We read in that sweet book, the Scottish Chiefs.
 
 (;l ZARA. CANTO ir. 
 
 VT. 
 
 I read tlic talc when young and shed a tear, 
 A trait of weakness perhaps, "but that's all one ; 
 
 If 'twas, a chann it left as sweet as e'er 
 
 The fam'd Sir Walter's pathos would have done; (2) 
 
 But youthful feelings flee with years, 'tis clear ; 
 The only tale I've lately read that won 
 
 A new delight is that of Hayti's queen, 
 
 Who crown and life for love lost, at eighteen. (3.) 
 
 VII. 
 
 To tread the deck is sweet, when weather's fine, 
 Lull'd by the music of the wind and waves ; 
 
 The boatswain's pipe to breakfast or to dine. 
 Is sweet, and rest that wearied nature craves ; 
 
 'Tis also sweet to watch the sun's decline, 
 As leaning o'er the side the ocean laves ; 
 
 Sweet is the bell-chynie tu the mid-watch crew, 
 
 Fenid the wish the hours swifter flew.
 
 CANTO II. 
 
 ZARA. 65 
 
 VIII. 
 
 'Tis sweet at eve to hear the mid sea-cry, 
 Of howling winds and blaring surge to lee ; 
 
 To watch the blue waves gliding swdftly by, 
 Anon all foam, and now a fke-gem'd sea ; 
 
 To view the spray to windward dashing high ; 
 To hearken to the sea-boy's voice of glee ; 
 
 All this is sweet to those who can descry, 
 
 The charms of nature best, when most lonely. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Three nights had fled since distant cannons' roar 
 
 Was heard on board, but naught whate'er was seen ; 
 
 The 'v\'uid blew steady stLU, but as before 
 Directly foul ; and long the bark had been 
 
 Slow beating south off Afric's mildew'd shore, 
 
 With fine fair days and nights of moonHght sheen ; 
 
 'Twas then the sailors met at eve to tell, 
 
 Their marvel tales, and many told 'em well. (4) 
 
 F
 
 GG ZARA. CANTO ri. 
 
 X. 
 
 And as the sliade of lonely night drew nigh, 
 
 Shrill through the rigging (Hd the south wind blow ; 
 
 And oft a blast would screech, as 'twere — a sigh 
 Of anguish wrung from hopeless breast of woe ; 
 
 The moaning breeze increased ; dark scowl'd the sky, 
 Loud dash'd the surge beneath the vessel's prow ; 
 
 Loud burst the laugh at mysteries reveal'd, 
 
 Loud creak'd the cordage as the vessel heel'd. 
 
 XL 
 
 Aurora's dawn dispersed the shade of night, 
 But scowl'd a dark and dismal purple hue, 
 
 As from tile royal cross-trees giddy height, 
 (Tiiat is, a place commanding the best view 
 
 Of distant objects as they heave iu sight), 
 A sailor's hail the mate's attention drew ; 
 
 He said, in short, a strange sail was in sight — 
 
 lliill down before the beam, — and he was right.
 
 CANTO ir. ZARA. 67 
 
 XII. 
 
 T'was Stanton's watch that night and soon was he, 
 Recluse aloft with spy-glass in his hand ; 
 
 And as he swept the horizon to lee, 
 
 He spied the stranger veer his course, and stand 
 
 Directly for them; he watched patiently, 
 
 And every movement of the stranger scann'd, 
 
 With the keen scrutiny of seaman's eye. 
 
 That soon can 'guise of foeman-ship descry. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 He made him out a light square rigg'd carack, 
 About three hundred tons ; but it was clear. 
 
 Of foreign build ; his hull was painted black, 
 ReHeved with a red mould ; and then his gear, 
 
 And trimming of his sails, appeared to lack 
 That perfect symmetry, as he drew near, 
 
 Which British war ships never fail to show, 
 
 And strike the eye with awe where'er they go. 
 
 F 2
 
 (>8 ZARA. cANKj II, 
 
 XIV. 
 
 IJLs masts wcri' rakt'd,(5) his huJl was long and low, 
 His bows were sliai-p and chaste beyond compare ; 
 
 Just such as now they always shape the prow, 
 Of vessels built for speed or for warfare ; 
 
 And as he heel'd to billows to and fro, 
 
 Unceasing watched his slightest movements were 
 
 By Stanton from aloft, till he came down, 
 
 His fine eyes glist'ning 'neatli a gathering frowni. 
 
 XV. 
 
 He trod the deck and soon the mandate flew, 
 
 In piercing shrill behest — " all hands to quarters ;" 
 
 Loud was the din of bustle, and quite new, 
 
 At least to all the soldier's wives and daughters ; 
 
 But tliey were sent below from harm or view ; 
 For ever on the bosom of blue waters, 
 
 'Mid l)attic's roar the sound of woman's wail, 
 
 Is sure to make the manly bosom quail.
 
 CANTO II. ZARA. 69 
 
 XVI. 
 
 And when below they seemed, a motley clan ; — 
 The timid maid with looks of terror wild, 
 
 The fierce virago — imsubdued by man, 
 The meek young wife and tender blooming child; 
 
 Two doctors too were there, and they began 
 To get their lint and sundry dressings piled ; (6) 
 
 And ready were in case of mortal strife, 
 
 To cut, probe, saw, or bandage, to save hfe. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 The cabins now were struck, chests stowed away, (7) 
 And both the gun and quarter decks were cleared ; 
 
 But soon they bore a rich warlike display ; 
 Large double headed shot and grape appeared 
 
 In boxes piled in cones ; the powder lay 
 
 Close to each gmi, whose gaping muzzle peer'd. 
 
 Just o'er the ocean thro' the port-holes low. 
 
 And seemed to bid defiance at a foe.
 
 '{) ZARA. CANTO II. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Oil (kck tlic soldiers formed a she\v^' line, 
 And felt or looked extremely daring when 
 
 Tlieir colonel passed among them to divine 
 The good or bad appearance of his men ; 
 
 lUit all were cheerful, nor wished to decline 
 The brunt of battle should it offer then ; 
 
 The married cared but little for their lives, 
 
 Tlieir sole solicitude was for their wives. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Meantime the stranger near'd amazing fast ; 
 
 Close haul'd was he and bore a press of sail 
 That laid him gunwale under, (8) till each mast 
 
 Like supple twigs were seen to bend and quail, 
 As if they fear'd each lurch would be the last ; 
 
 His tout ensemble indeed could not fail, 
 To strike conviction to a seaman's mind, 
 Hc^ could be of no ordinary kind.
 
 CANTO II. ZARA. 71 
 
 XX. 
 
 The model of his hull was Kght and lovely, 
 Unequalled perhaps in beauty or in taste ; 
 
 And as he rose and heel'd to every sea, 
 
 His sides and taper'd bow^s shone richly cased 
 
 With copper, sheen as poKshed gold could be ; 
 But looked not quite in keeping with the chaste, 
 
 Yet outre bearing of his low sleek hull. 
 
 All clothed in gloom and to appearance, dull. 
 
 XXL 
 
 Again, — his standing rigging and his gear, 
 Were bagatelle to British seaman's eye ; 
 
 In these he showed but poorly ; and 'twas clear, 
 His shrouds were old and fitted lubberly ; 
 
 As 'twere his whim or pleasure to appear 
 En negligence, intending to lay by 
 
 His best apparel for a future day ; 
 
 To sport perhaps in homeward port or bay.
 
 72 ZAKA. CANTO II. 
 
 xxri. 
 
 His main aiul t()])sail ties and slicets were — chains; 
 
 Tlicir jackstays — of the same material ; 
 His hanunock rails were hi<?li, and clearly pains 
 
 Wove ta'on witli taqiawlincrs to cover all 
 Till' hammocks; probably because the rains 
 
 Were soon expected heavily to fall ; 
 What e'er the reason was 1 can't but say, 
 Tis iiotliing niorr ihan slii])s do every day. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 I'ut Stanton entertained a difTerent thought ; 
 
 He said, " his taunt and rakish masts and ties, 
 " Of chains, were not exactly there for naught ; — 
 
 " His lubberly rig too, was mere disguise, 
 " To lull suspicion in the bark he sought, 
 
 " The better her to carry by surjirise ;" 
 And — " that his hanunock-cloatlis and lianiinocks too, 
 " Would shelter give from shower of grape or two."
 
 CANTO ir. ZARA. 78 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 But what appeared extremely strange, not one 
 Of all the glasses fixed on him could trace, 
 
 The symptom of a solitary gun 
 
 On board, nor trace of human form or face, 
 
 Save two young helmsmen and a man at cmi, (9) 
 And one lad coiling up the lee main brace ; 
 
 As messenger of some impending doom, 
 
 He shrouded seemed in saddening sullen gloom. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 He near'd, tho' yet he was not near enough, 
 
 His minutice exactly to descry ; 
 Close to the wind he sailed, keeping his luff 
 
 Near as a sea-bird to the bleak wind's eye ; 
 " I see," — the captain said, in voice as rough 
 
 As Boreas, " I see the reason why 
 The renegado keeps his luiF, we'll try 
 If yon black hull is shot proof, by and bye."
 
 T J' ZAllA. CANTO II. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Jit- was a nuui ul' poor ability, 
 
 Of little mind, but most unwieldly body ; 
 As dead to feeling or civility 
 
 As a sea gull — a booby — or a noddy ; 
 As sensitive of self as tliey may be ; 
 
 For no one else cared he a lawyer's fee, 
 Except his pale, wan, purser — Mr. Crass, 
 Precise and wily, greater knave, than ass. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 He, was nor friend or favorite of the crew ; 
 
 Some called him " slops,"(10) and others " Nicholas sly;" 
 Stanton the idol was ; full well he knew. 
 
 The way to curb the mind that dar'd defy 
 His check ; — all feared and much revered him too. 
 
 And watched the glances of his searching eye, 
 \\ iili the alacrity true genius finds, 
 Its beck attended to by willing minds.
 
 CANTO II. ZARA. 75 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Some strange opinions thro' the ship now spread ; 
 
 A sailor fonvard thro' a spy glass eyed 
 The stranger bark ; he looked, and looked, and said, 
 
 " Grim death he'd often grappled side by side, 
 " But any one to view yon figure-head, 
 
 " Nor feel a thrill of horror, he defied," 
 Then Stanton gazed, and said, all he could see. 
 Was a — Death's Head — as black as night could be. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 The glasses o'er the figure-head were brought 
 To bear, and eyes, in every direction ; 
 
 It was, indeed, most admirably wrought, 
 And true to horror, as the perfection 
 
 Of human art could reach ; and yet 'twas thought, 
 A marvellously outre selection ; — 
 
 'Mong all the figure-heads 'tween sky and sea, 
 
 A black — Death's Head — was quite a novelty.
 
 7() ZARA. CANTO tt. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Aiul wfll accorded with tlie sombre shade, — 
 The gloom of his k)\v liull, and dull border, — 
 
 And death-like stillness that did yet pervade 
 His deck ; the sailors said at last, they were 
 
 (In whispers first and then aloud,) afraid, , 
 He either was a spectre ship or tartar ; (1 1) 
 
 And soon a wilder surmise 'mong tliem ran. 
 
 He was tiieir " old iriend," the — Flying Dutchman. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 But superstitious rumoiu-s oft appall 
 
 The credulous at sea ; the youth who saw 
 
 The black Death's Head, was more indeed than all 
 The crew, a slave to superstitious awe ; 
 
 Scarce a bright meteor of the sky could fall, 
 But be predicted coming storm or war ; 
 
 He was a cuniiiiig augur, and the crew, 
 
 Imphcitly believed his sayings true.
 
 CANTO II. 
 
 ZARA. 77 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 The nephew of a London merchant he, 
 
 Long venerated for his most sweet wealth ; 
 
 As well for deeds of meltmg charity, 
 
 That fain would blaze abroad, tho' done by stealth ; 
 
 At last, he ched, (alas, for poor Wanley !) 
 And rather sudden, in the bloom of health ; 
 
 But ere he died, he gave his protege, 
 
 A good long — lectiure, on — morality. 
 
 XXXIIL 
 
 On virtue, — its reward ; on \ice, — its lure. 
 
 In aU its various ramifications ; 
 Duly received with thanks and looks demure. 
 
 But half bewildered, as most relations 
 Would be, when those they love lay past aU cure, 
 
 And they left minus in then* expectations. 
 Of cash, or home, of friends, or fire-side. 
 And left to stem the world's impetuous tide.
 
 Z A R A. CANTO II, 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 He spoke of prudence, and gave, his blessing ; 
 
 Of" charity, and gave him his, prayer book ; 
 And then his soul for ever took its wing, 
 
 From mortal scenes ; and Wanley was forsook 
 By every friend, nor knew he where to cling 
 
 For counsel or for succour ; so he took. 
 Of youthful scenes and shades he loved so well, 
 A poignant, parting look, and last farewell. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 The youth had health and strength, and, what is more 
 Essential perhaps in this world's froward way, 
 
 A spirit brave and unsubdued, he bore ; 
 
 Great cause had he for grief; and he would say, — 
 
 His recent ills he felt a little sore. 
 
 His friends' unkind desertion, more than any ; 
 
 lie dashed a starting tear away and saw, 
 
 ill a near harbour lay, a man-of-war.
 
 CANTO II. 
 
 ZARA. 79 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 To join the ship next flashed across his mind, 
 
 Regardless ahnost of his destiny ; 
 He keenly felt, of all he left behind. 
 
 Not one would sigh, nor moistened eye would be ; 
 He entered then — and foimd the crew were kind ; 
 
 Beloved, befriended, soon he grew happy ; 
 But even now he bears a strange antipathy, — 
 To kindred ties, and uncles, more especially. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 His rough and wayward life, and sea-girt home, 
 Became by habit sweet and quite inviting ; 
 
 'Twas all one to him so he could but roam. 
 
 Where 'ere fate willVl, for trading or for fighting ; 
 
 The sea wind's howl and ocean's eddy foam, 
 
 Were most the scenes he loved or took delight in; 
 
 Active and brave he scarcely ever failed 
 
 To be beloved in every ship he sailed.
 
 so Z AHA. CANTO 11. 
 
 XXWIII. 
 
 A tnu- sailor, — is proud of liis attire ; 
 
 His was neat, and o-racefnlly hccame liini : 
 The crown of his small hat was not higlier 
 
 Than some four inches, with a narrow rim ; 
 His bannian, trowsers, and his light shoes were. 
 
 Of canvas clean, (and cut in sailor's trim;) 
 His knife — (a sailor always wears a knife,) 
 A love gift was as dear to him as life. 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 Just such at twenty three was young Wanley : — 
 The south wind gently thro' tlie rigging sigh'd, 
 
 As on the forecastle he stood to lee. 
 
 With Stanton and some sailors by his side ; 
 
 They eyed the stranger long and earnestly. 
 But naught whatever new could be descried, 
 
 'Till suddeidy a busy murmur run. 
 
 He just had sent ;i wciitlur bow-port — gim.
 
 CANTO II. ZARA. 81 
 
 XL. 
 
 This warlike herald gave immediate rise 
 To hasty sayings, and conclusions new ; 
 
 The most, were apt, but many were surmise, 
 Or random guess that busy minds pursue 
 
 When danger fro%viLS or spnptoms of surprise, 
 And serve attention to divert in lieu, 
 
 Of sober reason and digested thought. 
 
 The aged revere, but youth receive as naught. 
 
 XLI. 
 
 Some said — " she was a man-of-war or pirate, 
 Because her gun was tvorvi'd {12) extremely well. 
 
 And tlirew a ring as fine as any frigate ;" 
 Others that — " 'twas impossible to tell ; 
 
 She might a trader be ; but e'er 'twas late, 
 Her own tactics would certainly dispel 
 
 The veil mysterious she so wily wore. 
 
 And quiet give, or rouse the cannon's roar." 
 
 G
 
 82 ZAllA. CANTO II. 
 
 XLII. 
 
 TliO giin just firod, no one could descry 
 
 On board, wliicli Stanton thought a little strange ; 
 And then 'twas said, as fell the sea-breeze sigh, 
 
 A bold mysterious pirate used to range 
 Those seas, who would the livelong day lay by, 
 
 Under bare-poles ; and that she'd often change 
 Her rig and track, to foil the bark who sought her, 
 The " Syren" named, and that she gave no quarter. 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 Meantime the stranger lufTd, and gained at last 
 Tlie weather gage ; he right a head was now. 
 
 Keeping his vantage gained and sailing fast, 
 Until he bore just on the weather bow; 
 
 Then all the canvas of his mizen mast 
 
 Was lowered ; and he wore, until liis prow 
 
 Precisely seemed to bear upon our bark. 
 
 As would a hawk upon a nursling lark.
 
 CANTO ir. ZARA. 83 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 Exceeding lovely did his foresails' show, 
 
 Full blown and charming as a maiden's breast, 
 
 As rolling gently o'er the blue billow. 
 
 That lav'd his bends with foamy curling crest ; 
 
 A lad aloft was seen to sped, but slow, 
 And leisurely the royals furl'd ; the rest 
 
 Of his small sails were taken in, and he 
 
 Was under topsails nearing rapidly. 
 
 XLV. 
 
 Connected with this movement there arose 
 A new and interesting feature in 
 
 The stranger, practised frequently by foes 
 As weD by friends at sea ; the one to win 
 
 A confidence, the other to disclose 
 His flag, or inclination to begin, 
 
 A parley : in short, his ensign he now wore. 
 
 The fam'd tri-colour — Britain's foe no more. 
 
 g2
 
 cSl ZARA. CANH) II. 
 
 XLVl. 
 
 The same tri-colour tliat for years lias braved 
 The flag of British focnien, rashly brave ; 
 
 The same, that more than oiiee had ])roiidly waved 
 Defiance, sinking 'neath the mountain wave; (13) 
 
 The emblem then of freedom, tho' enslaved ; 
 And still of liberty redeemed, now gave 
 
 To British men-of-war a pensive kind 
 
 Of reminiscence, " ungermain " to the mind. 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 They scowl'd at it, as men who recognize 
 The traits of friendsliip in a foeman's face ; 
 
 Evincing doubt co-mingled with surprize, 
 And some distrust tlie Hag eoukl not efface ; 
 
 And scorn, was deep depicted in the eyes, 
 
 As if they glanced a meaning, they could trace 
 
 A foeman's visage breaking to the view, 
 
 'Neath the tri-colors, red and white and l)lue.
 
 CANTO II. ZARA. 85 
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 The stranger's distance was not very far, 
 
 And Stanton now harangued his mustered crew, 
 
 In speech exceeding brilliant, for a tar ; 
 
 A custom useful perhaps, tho' not quite new. 
 
 As much the same was done at Trafalgar, 
 
 When Nelson's signal at his mast-head flew ;(1 1) 
 
 And Nelson's object was, as Stanton's then, 
 
 To stimulate (15) in short, his gallant men. 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 The crew were mustered on the quarter-deck, 
 The idlers, (16) and the middies on the poop, 
 
 Outcasts of fortune many, and the wTeck 
 
 Of wealth decayed were there among the group ; 
 
 Who by the blast of keen reverses check, 
 
 Had fortune lost and fame at one fell swoop ; 
 
 And heard immoved young Stanton's bright oration, 
 
 Tho' creditable to himself and station.
 
 S(\ ZARA. CANTO II. 
 
 L. 
 
 " My nu'ii !" said hv, and then his sword lie drovv,- 
 A small well tempered steel and cherished dear, 
 
 For treasured recollections, ever new, 
 
 Of boyish days ; the blade he then found near 
 
 Old Pomfret castle, rust with time and dew, 
 And seeming there iiad lain for many a year ; 
 
 His uncle had it polished the next day, 
 
 But stop'd the " awful expcnce" from, /lis poi/. 
 
 LI. 
 
 " My men !" said Stimton to his mustered crew, 
 You stranger is a rover, 1 can tell ; 
 
 And sure am I that every one of you 
 
 Will fight like Britons, and disdain to sell 
 
 Your precious lives and cargo to a few 
 
 Inhuman thieves, who scoff at mercy's yell, — 
 
 Who hush with nnn"d(T lu'l])less victims' moans. 
 
 And iiear sweet music in tlu-ir dying groans.
 
 CANTO II. ZARA. 87 
 
 LIL 
 
 " No — fight ! my men, — fight — to the very death ! 
 
 Remember home, and all you cherish there ; 
 Tliat land of freedom where you first drew breath, 
 
 And how her sons have dared and still do dare, 
 United despots' darings to bereath 
 
 And rob them of the glorious wreath they wear, 
 Of ' Liberty !' — disgrace not then the name, 
 Of Englishmen, nor aliens turn to fame. 
 
 LIII. 
 
 " If he's a — pirate, surely he'll board ye, 
 Or try to board, that ye may believe me ; 
 
 And should he carry ye, your fate will be 
 To take your final slumber in the sea ; 
 
 Bound hand and foot if you drown singly. 
 Or back to back if lasli'd to two or three ; 
 
 In either ease I speak, of course, of — men ; 
 
 But as for women, heaven help them then !
 
 ,SS ZARA. CANTO M. 
 
 IJV. 
 
 "TIk'U iiglu ! my brave lads fur your sake aiul tlieirs; — 
 And sliould he try to lay you l)y the hoard, 
 
 Try him to cany, when he's unawares, 
 
 And lay about, like men, with ])ike and sword ; 
 
 AVhen bullets whiz, and Hashing powder glares, 
 Let, — * victory ! " — and ' I'onvard ! ' be the word ; 
 
 'Twould prove to me, indeed, a glorious day. 
 
 To tow yon — Death's-Head — in a British bay. 
 
 l.V. 
 
 '* Now, every tar and soldier to his station ; 
 
 But, bear in mind, my strict command in case, 
 A man or boy, no matter what his nation, 
 
 Dare danger shun or shew a coward face, 
 The slave be instant shot ; now let a ration 
 
 Of grog be sened to splice the brave main brace; (17) 
 Then every captain of his gun stand by, 
 W ith stiady aim his bull-dog to — let fly.
 
 CANTO II. ZARA. 89 
 
 LVI. 
 
 " But sure take steady aim, and fire low. 
 The shot will rise incalculably fast ; 
 
 Pay briskly at his hull, or just below. 
 
 His rudder chains, when' ere his stem is cast 
 
 Towards you ; mark his rise to the billow. 
 
 His fall ; and rake, when'ere you can, a mast; 
 
 Once cripple them, and then he cannot run, 
 
 His rudder shattered, half the victory's won. 
 
 LVII. 
 
 " But should the stranger e'er the fight is done, 
 Stand fair to prove the strongest of the two, 
 
 He ne'er on this ship's deck shall fire a gun. 
 Or capture, man or boy, a soul of you ; 
 
 For when they thmk our ship securely won, 
 I'll strike a blow the best of them shall rue ; 
 
 The magazine I'll fire, boys ! — just like — 
 
 The lauded young Dutch Hero did — Van Spyck.
 
 DO ZARA. CANTO M. 
 
 LVIIL 
 
 " And this at least must be a consolation, 
 To wives, and doubtless every husband too ; 
 
 Who scarce would feel the slightest inclination 
 To drown by three together, or by two ; 
 
 And leave their young wives in a situation 
 Too dark for utterance, and yet not new ; (18) 
 
 Then hoist the ensign, nail it to the mast, 
 
 Fight to the very death ! — fight to the last !" 
 
 LIX. 
 
 And here a general buz of exultation, 
 
 Closed on his speech ; the officers and men, — 
 
 Sailors and soldiers, all took their station, 
 And smiled as gay as wily statesmen when. 
 
 Themselves enricli, to benefit a nati(m. 
 
 And read the deed approved by hired pen ; 
 
 All seemed indeed exceedingly delighted. 
 
 Save those whose hopes I said before, were blighted.
 
 CANTO II. 
 
 ZARA. 91 
 
 LX. 
 
 To them to live or die was all the same ; 
 
 They thought the world a sad place with no friend, 
 Or kindred heart in agony to claim 
 
 A sympathizing sigh, with theirs to blend ; - 
 Or throb, to welcome fortune if it came, 
 
 Or eye to weep, (when'ere it came,) their end ; 
 Or hand to tend them, in their parting breath. 
 And so they careless were of life or death. 
 
 LXI. 
 
 They felt in short a sense of loneliness. 
 Coeval with the reckless wounded mind, 
 
 Stimg by neglect, heart riven, comfortless. 
 And callous grovm to ill of every kind; 
 
 On them, young Stanton's speech did not impress 
 That all exciting spell it left behind 
 
 On others ; still they seemed to be possessed, 
 
 Of just as daring courage as the rest.
 
 92 ZARA. CANTO II. 
 
 LXIL 
 
 And now the little sea-girt warlike world, 
 
 Was cap-a-pee a floating citadel ; 
 Her courses both were clewed up, small sails furl'd, 
 
 And under topsails sailing she looked well 
 
 « 
 
 And lovely, heeling to the foam that cuiTd 
 Beneath her lee-bow blaring like a knell, 
 Presaging woe to many a young breast, 
 Tiiat never yet had met a foeman's crest. 
 
 LXlll. 
 
 The stranger now was just about as near 
 
 As cannon shot would range ; his movements bore 
 
 A wily stilhiess, studied it was clear ; 
 His deck deserted was, just as before ; 
 
 His Figure-Head quite hideous did appear, 
 As ghastly grinning o'er the bow-surge roar. 
 
 And wore a gloom mysterious as it were 
 
 The gi'isly king of tenor's self, were there.
 
 CANTO II. ZARA. 93 
 
 LXIV. 
 
 The skull and hollow sockets of the eyes, 
 Were laiu-ell'd with a grisly ininiic crown; 
 
 And, in the deep and death-Hke cavities 
 
 Of nose and mouth, two shore bird-nests of down 
 
 Were seen, the nurslings warbling forth their cries 
 As gay as young larks ere the grass is mown; 
 
 The teeth where white as polished pebble stones ; 
 
 The whole embedded were in two cross bones. 
 
 LXV. 
 
 But where was angel Zara all this time ? 
 
 Her good endearing mother and her maid 
 Of " all work ?" — that we'll read m the next rhyme,- 
 
 — In their own cabin dreadfully afraid ; 
 Maria penitential for some crime 
 
 Known to herself alone ; fair Zara laid. 
 Her mother's face on her fair bosom where, 
 Her sweet caresses seemed a seraph's care.
 
 94 /^ A R A. CANTO II. 
 
 l.XVI. 
 
 Thus were they occupied, two souls in one, 
 So (lorply interwove and lull of love, 
 
 Tliiir pleasures in one kindred streamlet run, 
 Fore-tasting sweets the blest are said above, 
 
 In realms of bliss to taste, when Heaven's won ; 
 Except a dash of fear, as amorous dove 
 
 At sound of footstep nearing the yard gate. 
 
 Or Hash of stranger's gun when night is late. 
 
 LXVII. 
 
 She pressed her niotlier's forehead with her fair 
 And soothing silky hand, and mingled sighs 
 
 With hers, and twined the ringlets of her hair 
 Within her own, while from her soft blue eyes, 
 
 IJeam'd tenderness and beauty mingled where, 
 The melting soul in flashes seemed to rise ; 
 
 O for the ilocjuence of such fine eye, 
 
 To cheer tlu' heart and sooth the sorrow sigh !
 
 CANTO 11. ZARA. 95 
 
 LXVIII. 
 
 The sun was just at the meridian ; 
 
 In other words 'twas noon, or twelve o'clock, 
 As Zara turned her eager eye upon 
 
 The cabin door; she heard, she thought, — a knock. 
 Gentle at first — then two — three — and so on. 
 
 Her maid she beckoned the door to unlock ; 
 The captain and young Stanton then were seen. 
 Who took their seats on chairs of damask green. 
 
 LXIX. 
 
 Beauty is awful when with virtue crown'd ; 
 
 It sheds o'er man a deferential ray, 
 Well understood by those who've felt the wound 
 
 Of aU despotic love in the hey-day 
 Of joyous youth ; and soon the captain found. 
 
 He wanted words correctly to pourtray, 
 The precise mission he came to reveal, 
 Tho' love he never felt, nor cared to feel.
 
 J)() ZARA. CAXTO II. 
 
 LXX. 
 
 lie hem'd ! — and lia'd ! — with deference, and stuttered, 
 Let fall his hat and picked it up again ; 
 
 And, bowing, something like — " fiiir ladies," muttered, 
 While Stanton's color rose and fell with pain, 
 
 For not a word a long long while was uttered, 
 'Till he in the extremity was fain, 
 
 To tell the ladies — " thev had better go, 
 
 A little while for safety, down below." 
 
 LXXI. 
 
 That dreary place the cockpit was and where 
 Some tliirty women crowded lay, or near, 
 
 W'lu), with the children sent for safety there, 
 Were stowed together in a cable-tier ; 
 
 Some water-butts, a sail, and casks a pair. 
 Of Hodgson's best, (extremely rare and dear, 
 
 in India o)icc, tlio' now the price is low,) 
 
 I'^orni'd tlu" wafer/a of the di'ck bi'low.
 
 CANTO II. ZARA. 97 
 
 LXXII. 
 
 Two chairs, a table, and a canvas skreen, 
 
 Were brought to mark fair Zara's berth, her own ; 
 
 A candle lighted careless stuck between, 
 A tissure Lined with some sea fishes bone, 
 
 Shed forth a glare, as IVIilton says was seen 
 In hell : — " of darkness visible ;" and shone, 
 
 Or glimmered rather, pale blue vapour rays. 
 
 As half fed gas in Loudon's foggy days. 
 
 LXXIII. 
 
 The ladies from their cabin now were led 
 By Stanton to the deck, when Zara saw, 
 
 For the first time, the hideous — figure-head; 
 A tremor in her soul arose, — ^like awe. 
 
 Akin to those who gaze upon the dead ; 
 
 (Save men inured to scenes of blood or wai-) ; 
 
 StiU was she dignified ; — her eye a soul, 
 
 Ferment as fire,- — yet under lier control.
 
 98 ZARA. CANTO II. 
 
 LXXIV. 
 
 A painter, sculptor, or a coimoiseur 
 Of arts superb — the gems of Italy, — 
 
 Of all that's chaste and charming in nature, 
 (Of angel woman's form especially,) 
 
 Might sacrifice his purse, fatigue endure. 
 So fair a specimen of grace to see, 
 
 As Zara's attitude just then displayed, 
 
 In innocence and modesty arrayed. 
 
 LXXV. 
 
 A seraph's soul consigned to breathe in clay, 
 And wear a female form of loveliness, 
 
 Could scarcely robe in a more tasteful way, 
 Than Zara ! Yet no child was ever less 
 
 Indebted to mere art for the display 
 Of all that gi'accful is in female di*ess ; 
 
 IV-rhaps licr taste was extraordinary ; 
 
 She quite abhorred rich colors or embroid'ry.
 
 CANTO II. ZARA. 99 
 
 LXXVI. 
 
 Her hair was parted o'er her forehead in 
 That pleasing artless curve of negligence, 
 
 Which scarcely ever yet has failed to win 
 
 A sweet delight from men at the first glance ; 
 
 The fashion recently I learnt had been 
 
 Imported from the di-essy shores of France ; 
 
 However that may be, I must confess, 
 
 They're common now and Uked of course the less. 
 
 LXXVII. 
 
 A veil of lace and white as momitain snow, 
 Appended to her hair fell graceful o'er 
 
 Her shoulders, fastened 'neath a simple bow 
 Of satin, also wliite ; the gown she wore. 
 
 Was a light lilac British merino, 
 
 Of texture fine as muslin, and much more 
 
 Desirable and durable at sea ; 
 
 Her hose were silk, her shoes white tafFety. 
 
 h2
 
 100 ZARA. CANTO II. 
 
 LXXVIII. 
 
 Her bosom, as a blushing rose-bud lie 
 
 Beside her mother's breast; her lips were grae'd 
 
 With smiles, well nigh suppress'd by saddening sigh, 
 As o'er the stranger bark she glanc'd in haste ; 
 
 But then to mark the flashes of her eye! 
 
 Its brow — her bust — and then, (O, Heaven!) — her waist; 
 
 How lost, alas! is Man to self-control, 
 
 \Vlien LOVE once gains possession of his souJ. 
 
 LXXIX. 
 
 All self-control is then completely lost; 
 
 Love reigns triumphant o'er a heart, his throne. 
 Supported at a most tremendous cost 
 
 Of burning sighs and tears, and many a groan, 
 And many a night in sleepless tonnents lost, 
 
 And many a day in reveries WTapt alone ; 
 'Tis Cupid's revel, then, — Love's tears his wine ; 
 He, laughing, cries — the world — the world — is mine!
 
 CANTO II. ZARA. 101 
 
 LXXX. 
 
 And smiles to see liis wretched victim's tear, 
 
 And laughs to see him loathe the daintiest food, 
 
 And scoffs to see him, like a stricken deer, 
 For solace fly within the shady wood. 
 
 To hear it echo with the name so dear. 
 
 That probes the wound but ciu'es not ; if it could 
 
 The Exchequer replenish'd might be quite. 
 
 By taxing lovers in tliem day or night. 
 
 LXXXI. 
 
 And might pay half the nation's debt, or more ; 
 
 But that important monosyllable. 
 If, invariably will, and to our sore 
 
 And most grievous discomfitm'e, dispel 
 Our very grand conceptions by the score ; 
 
 Ify I inherited the rich mantle, 
 Of Homer, Milton, Racine, or Shakspeare, — 
 Or Rothschild's pmrse, I would not tarry here.
 
 102 ZARA. CANTO 11. 
 
 LXXXII. 
 
 'I'hc sylvan sliades may echo lovers' cries, 
 
 The iii<;htingale's and cuckoo's plaintive song ; 
 
 The burning sigh of lovers' agonies 
 
 May pierce the woodland's glen, where lovers long 
 
 'J\) lounge, and watch the moon, the stars that rise, 
 xVnd listen to the thrill of leaves along 
 
 The solitary greensward slope ; but naught is prized, 
 
 Save the loved presence of the object idolized. 
 
 LXXXIII. 
 
 Once the fond idol of his torment near. 
 The burden of his bosom instant flies, 
 
 Hut k'aves him mute with tender awe and fear. 
 While draughts of blisses from his charmer's eyes,- 
 
 lle steals in extacy ! indeed 'tis clear. 
 
 True love (in youth of course I mean) relies 
 
 Ilis evi ry hope on stolen smiles and glances, 
 
 \N hicli constitute the soul of love's advances.
 
 CANTO II. ZARA. 103 
 
 LXXXIV. 
 
 Of love fair Zara Imply little knew, 
 
 Save that of filial kind ; perhaps 'tw^as well ; 
 
 The breast, once barbed, has often cause to rue 
 The cruel dart that made the bosom swell 
 
 With aspu-ations dangerous as new, — 
 
 It's charm, deceit, as many belles may tell ; 
 
 But Zara lov'd her mother, and her arm 
 
 On her's reclined, her smile her sweetest charm. 
 
 LXXXV. 
 
 Her visage wore a meditative cast, 
 
 O'ershaded with a dash of pensive grief; 
 
 The smooth sweet surface of the Hfe she'd passed, 
 In fair prospective rose to mind ; the chief 
 
 And only solace she derived at last, 
 From aU her reveries that gave rehef, 
 
 Arose from the delight, she then would share 
 
 Her mother's ills^ and bear what she would bear.
 
 101 ZARA. CANTO II. 
 
 LXXXVI. 
 
 This thought was scarcely born, when swift it flew 
 Do\m to her heart, from thence to her lair face, 
 
 Then deep suffused with clieering smiles, tliat threw 
 O'er all herself a mild and winning grace ; 
 
 Not that such smiles by any means were neiv, 
 But merely strange at such a time and ])lace ; 
 
 'Mid w^arlike preparations, rife just then. 
 
 To cope witli desperate and lawless men. 
 
 LXXXVII. 
 
 Tlie smile her mother saw, hut little knew 
 
 The filial source from whence the pleasure sprung; 
 
 A white crape shawl she o'er her shoulders threw, 
 And side hy side, they close together clung, 
 
 Until a spy-glass from the stranger's crew, 
 Was seen to flash upon them, and among 
 
 The parapliei-nalia of their force: — 
 
 The ladies then were sent below, of course.
 
 CANTO II. 
 
 ZARA. 105 
 
 LXXXYIII. 
 
 Gloomy and drear then seem'd their safety den, 
 Though greeted by the women with a glad 
 
 And cheering welcome ; some of whom were then 
 As gay as nightingales, and others sad; 
 
 They scarce were seated in their drear berth when, 
 A " rumour" grew, the stranger vessel had 
 
 " Just haul'd his wind (19), his topsail laid aback, 
 
 And then was hove-to on his larboard tack." 
 
 LXXXIX. 
 
 A hundred tongues loud rumour wears, 'tis said ; 
 
 And is (and %\dsely perhaps) the learn'd decide, 
 Oi feminine class; but Jam much afraid 
 
 The lady steers sometimes a little wide 
 Of truth; and those indebted to her aid. 
 
 Have cause to wish the lady never lied; 
 However this may be, she now was right 
 As to the stranger's recent movements, — quite.
 
 106 ZARA. CANTO II. 
 
 XC. 
 
 He suddenly liad haul'd his wind, 'tis true, 
 And quiet lay not very far to windward, 
 
 Under his topsails snug enough hove-to; — 
 (That is, an evolution to retard 
 
 The progress, much the same as steamers do 
 
 When they revolve the paddle-wheels Lackward;) 
 
 And tliis said movement brought the vessels soon. 
 
 Exactly side by side, the time, just noon. 
 
 XCI. 
 
 But now 'tis time, my courteous reader, we 
 Must e'en shake hands for a minute or two, 
 
 By way of parting: — a ceremony, 
 'Tis quite imperative we submit to, 
 
 Tn defrcnce to the rules of poesy ; 
 
 Tliese long Cantos will never, never, do ; 
 
 Poetic rules we nuist not disregard, 
 
 Reviewers lash sometimes so very hard.
 
 CANTO II. ZARA. 107 
 
 XCII. 
 
 Anticipations, are but silly things ; 
 
 Events are crowding quickly on our page, 
 As strange as romance on her fairy wings 
 
 E'er blazoned to a marvel loving age ; 
 But you read facts ; and if the sequel wrings 
 
 Your tender breast at all, — the pain assuage. 
 By recollecting worldly woes are a, — 
 Mere incubus, — a fleeting chimera. 
 
 XCIII. 
 
 All mortals are, (the cause, that awful tree 
 
 And the fine fruit) destined, sad truth ! to pass 
 
 The vale of tears and sorrows ; — none are free ; 
 No one of any clime, or grade, or class ; 
 
 (Nor those especially who tempt the sea ;) 
 
 Till life's strange scene is o'er ; but now, alas ! 
 
 My lamp is nearly out, my fire, quite ; 
 
 And I am weary, so farewell, good night. 
 
 END OF THE SECOND CANTO.
 
 NOTES TO CANTO II. 
 
 ■■?
 
 NOTES TO CANTO II. 
 
 STANZA II. 
 
 (1) " Ere lovely East displays her crimson hue." 
 
 In the seas of the tropics, the east at dawn of day first 
 appears, in fine weather, tinged with crimson, next with 
 gold and purple, and, lastly, with a brilliancy of gold too 
 glaring for the eye, wliich glories usher in the orb of 
 day. 
 
 STANZA VI. 
 
 (2) " as e'er 
 
 The famed Sir Walter's pathos would have done." 
 
 This stanza was written before the lamentable demise of 
 the celebrated bard. 
 
 (2) " A new delight is that of Hayti's queen." 
 
 As a very interesting book, founded on this tragi-roman- 
 tic event, is in hand, the author will not, by further alluding
 
 112 NOTES. CANTO n. 
 
 to the tale in tlie present instance, aftord to the reader the 
 opportunity of an anticipation which might destroy the effect 
 of the work. 
 
 STANZA IX. 
 
 (4) " 'Twas then the sailors met at eve to tell 
 Their marvel tales, and many told 'em well.'' 
 
 Perhaps the admission of the author may he deemed ex- 
 traordinary, that, when a boy at sea he was more enter- 
 tained in listening, in the delightful evenings so peculiarly 
 bland and beautiful about the equinox, to the miraculous 
 tales of the sailors than he was by the perusal even of the 
 still more wonderful incidents related, in the Arabian Nights. 
 True it is that their tales bordered more on the wonderful 
 than on the sublime ; but the predilection of sailors for the 
 extraordinary, and especially for every thing relating to the 
 spiritual world, is well known. Never were our mcji at a 
 loss for a new tale, each wonder surpassing the last. Most 
 of them were replete with the humour peculiar to their race ; 
 and I verily believe, had their tales been taken down by 
 one of the talented reporters of the parliamentary debates, 
 rendered fit for the press, and published, the work would 
 have run through an edition in a fortnight. 
 
 A brief outline of one of these tales is subjoined for the 
 amusement of my readers, to the correctness of which I 
 have adhered as well as my memory enables me.
 
 CANTO ir. NOTES. 113 
 
 " A company of merchants at Bristol fitted out a ship on 
 a voyage of discovery : I was a quarter-master on board of 
 her. We set sail on Sunday, the 21st of October, the year 
 before last. The weather was fine ; we were in high spirits, 
 and full of those anticipations of novel objects and stirring 
 incidents which may fairly be expected in a voyage of dis- 
 covery. The \\dnd continued fair until we came within 
 sight of Rio Janeiro ; when one night, a fierce north-easter 
 took us aback and drove us for many days to the south- 
 west. The days were darkened with fog, and mist, and 
 rain, so that we could hardly see the ship's head ; and the 
 nights were a thousand times worse. For weeks we could 
 not get a sight of the sun or a star ; and, the storm still 
 increasing in violence the captain and all of us became very 
 uneasy. At the end of the third week the gale increased to 
 such fury that we sprang a leak, and at midnight shipped a 
 sea which washed our binnacle and compass overboard, 
 which was the more distressing, it being the only service- 
 able one we had, our other having been broken ; so that, 
 in fact, we were left to the mercy of the gale which pro- 
 pelled us onward for another fortnight, not knowing, or 
 being able even to guess, where we were, or whither we 
 were likely to be driven. 
 
 " One morning at dawn of day, I was slumbering on the 
 forecastle, the wind still blowing almost a hurricane, when, 
 suddenly the Sun shewed himself, and right ahead land 
 appeared in sight. > At the same time the gale abated ; and 
 the rays of the sun exhibited a splendour so peculiar, that 
 
 1
 
 114 NOTES. CANTO II. 
 
 we had never witnessed the like before. The nearer we 
 approached the shore, the more transparent and beautiful 
 shone the heavens tinged with colours of every hue ; and 
 so refreshing was the air that we felt ourselves as it were, 
 in fairy land. Tlie captain tried to take an observation, 
 but turned pale, and said he could not bring the sun down 
 to the horizon. lie tried again, but with the same ill suc- 
 cess. At the same moment a man seated on the lee cat- 
 head, called out, ' Here's the most wonderful fish you ever 
 saw coming down upon us !' And true enough : a shoal 
 of mermaids, three times as large as human creatures, sur- 
 rounded the shi]i in such numbers that we became alarmed, 
 fearing they would get on board. They swam breast-high, 
 and the heads of many of them nearly reached our main- 
 chains. Some of them, seemingly the young ones, were so 
 remarkably handsome that I almost washed I had one of 
 them for a bedfellow ; and, had she not been of three times 
 my size I would have asked the captain's leave to have her 
 on board. We kept them down, however, and ncared the 
 shore rapidly ; when, bless my stars ! what a scene of 
 beauty burst on our view ! The foliage of the trees bore 
 the appearance of gold and silver spangles. The hills and 
 valleys sparkled with gems and precioiis stones ; and the 
 breeze sent fortli a strain of melody far more ravishing to 
 the ear than any nui.sic you ever heard or could conceive. 
 We sailed up a large river, the waters of which presented 
 the appearance of liquid gold ; and as we shoaled our water 
 the colossal mermaids left us with a tremendous shriek. At
 
 CANTO II. NOTES. 115 
 
 night we cast anchor close in shore, the captain intending 
 to go on shore in the morning. The breeze continued 
 through the night its strain of enchanting melody. In the 
 morning we manned our boat, and I was coxswain. As we 
 pulled for shore we were all in a state of wonder at the 
 grandeur and beauties which surrounded us. We landed, 
 and Oh, what a sight! The sand was gold-dust, the 
 stones, pearls ; and we were all filling our pockets as fast 
 as we could fill them, when suddenly we were surrounded 
 by a host of beautiful women and handsome men, whose 
 forms were enveloped in a flimsy mantle of white, which 
 shone so dazzingly that we were obliged to cover our eyes 
 with our hands. Strange to say, they all appeared to be 
 young. They approached us, but not near enough to allow 
 us to touch them, nor would they speak to us ; and in a 
 few minutes we were surrounded by additional thousands. 
 
 " Three months we remained in this heavenly land, un- 
 molested ; faring better than, I am sure, we ever fared 
 before. The springs gave out a delightful beverage, a little 
 stronger than our grog ; the fruit-trees yielded food finer 
 than our roast beef ; and our only wants were wives and 
 tobacco. At last we held a consultation ; and the captain 
 said he would make sail for England, and, on his arrival, 
 he would report the land to government for the sake of the 
 gold ; and that we should then all be made lords and 
 knights, according to our rank on board. This pleased us, 
 well ; and, after loading the ship with gold and precious 
 stones, we set sail. 
 
 I 2
 
 ]\G NOTES. CANTO II. 
 
 " After a few days' sailing before the wind, tlie melody 
 
 of the breeze suddenly left lis ; and another storm arose, 
 
 vvliieh earried us away for some weeks. We still knew not 
 
 where we were ; when, one day, a sailor cried out, 
 
 • Breakers ahead /' We put the helm down, l)Ut too late ; 
 
 for the vessel struck. We took to our boats, but so high 
 
 was tlie surf that three of the four boats swamped ; and we 
 
 were in the long-boat fourteen haiuls without provisions. 
 
 We spread a shirt for a sail, and dashed on before the wind 
 
 day after day, night after night, until exhausted nature 
 
 could liohl out no longer. One perished after the otlu-r, and 
 
 I at last was left alone. Famishing and fainting, 1 fell 
 asleep, and on awaking, found myself in a strange ship — 
 
 an English merchant vessel bound for Liverpool, which 
 
 had hove to and picked me up. On my arrival in London 
 
 I reported all the wonderful adventures of my voyage to the 
 
 Lords of the Admiralty ; but I was shamefully used ; for 
 
 they would not believe a word I said, and actually, laughed 
 
 in mv face !" 
 
 STANZA XIV. 
 
 (5) " His masts were raked." 
 
 The masts are said to ])e " raked," when they diverge 
 from the perpendicular ; and w iuii they incline toward the 
 stern, to " rake aft."
 
 CANTO II. NOTES. 117 
 
 STANZA XVI. 
 
 (6) " To get their lint and sundry dressings piled.'' 
 
 A naval officer, a friend of mine, assured me that he had 
 seen, in the cock-pit of a frigate, the lint and dressings 
 preparatory to an action piled as high as three or four feet. 
 
 STANZA XVII. 
 
 (7) " The cabins now were struck." 
 
 The cabins on the dun-deck of an Indiaman are con- 
 structed of canvas, framed on wood, and so fitted as to be 
 capable of being taken down, or refitted, at a few minutes' 
 notice. 
 
 STANZA XIX. 
 
 (8) " Close hauled he ivas, and bore a press of sail 
 That laid him gunwale under." 
 
 Allien a ship cames on a press of sail which causes her to 
 heel over to leeward so deep that the water rushes into her 
 gunnels, she is said to be " gunnel under." 
 
 STANZA XXIV. 
 
 (9) " Save two young helmsmen and a man at cun." 
 
 The man at " cun " is one stationed in advance, or to 
 " windward " of, and close to the helmsman : his duty is
 
 118 NOTES. CANTO II. 
 
 to direct and guide the movements of the hehn. In mer- 
 chant ships this accessary is in general dispensed with ; but, 
 in times of danger, the captain himself " cuns " the ship. 
 
 STANZA XXVII. 
 
 (10) " Some called him ' slops.' " 
 
 The term " slops," as applied to the small fry called 
 pursers — a race now, and for ever (happily), extinct in all 
 ships save men-of-war, owes its origin to the circumstance 
 of tlu'ir providing " slops" for the sailors, as apparel, tea, 
 sugar, &c. ; lor which is very modestly charged a, profit of 
 only seventy-Jive per cent. ; — Poor Jack ! 
 
 STANZA XXX. 
 
 (11) " He either was a spectre-ship, or Tartar." 
 
 ^\Tiether he caught the tartar, or, having caught him, the 
 tartar proved the stronger of the two, remains to be seen. 
 
 STANZA XLI. 
 
 (12) " His gun was wormed extremely well." 
 
 By greasing the inside of the muzzle of a cannon, the 
 tone of the report is greatly increased ; and, on its dis-
 
 CANTO II. 
 
 NOTES. 119 
 
 charge, a beautiful ring is formed of the powder which darts 
 into the air and rises rapidly. In calm or fine weather it 
 has a very beautiful effect : the gun is then said to have 
 been " wormed." 
 
 STANZA XLVI. 
 
 (13) " That more than once had proudly waved 
 Defiance, sinking 'neath the mountain wave." 
 
 Allusion is here made to the by no means rare instances, 
 in the late war, of the foe vanquished by British prowess, 
 sinking beneath the mountain-wave, with colours proudly 
 flying, in defiance of the victor.— See " James's Naval 
 History." 
 
 STANZA XLVIII. 
 
 (14) " WTien Nelson's signal at his mast-head flew." 
 
 " England expects every man to do his duty," — The 
 French, it is well known, are passionately fond of effect ; 
 and the author verily believes that the brilliant victory 
 gained by the immortal hero of Trafalgar left not any thing 
 like so great an impression on the minds of the Frenchmen 
 as did the signal thrown out previous to the commencement 
 of the struggle. The author grounds his opinion on one of 
 many pleasing conversations held in his youth with a French
 
 120 NOTES. CANTO II. 
 
 gentlemen, a heloved friend of his, of which the battle 
 and the victory were the topics ; — 
 
 " Ay, but the signal — how glorious !" said my friend. 
 
 " Nay— but the battleT said I. 
 
 " Very grand and glorious," rejoined he. " But the 
 signal I — that signal /" 
 
 The signal alone engrossed the admiration of my friend, 
 ami in his view eclipsed the mighty victory itself; to which, 
 in point of fact, it was but a stimulant. Still it would be 
 unfair to generalize too much. The greatest admirers of 
 efiect of that gallant nation must surely have seen enough 
 in the course of the contest and its result, to satisfy the 
 imagination and all the senses to satiety. 
 
 (\^) " To stimulate, in short, his gallant men." 
 
 Very good policy no doubt. Now, extremely various 
 have been the plans resorted to, to gain this object. The 
 author once heard it said that the gallant Picton used to 
 stimulate his soldiers previous to battle, by addressing them 
 in these encouraging terms : — " Go it rascals ! go it raga- 
 muffins !" For the truth of this the author cannot vouch ; 
 but of that of the following anecdote, he is well satisfied. 
 
 There was a dashing captain of a frigate in service in 
 India, (if the author mistakes not, it was Captain Dawson 
 of the Iphigenia,) who was a sailor of the good old school. 
 Fond of single-stick, and manly sports of every descrip- 
 tion. Gladly would he reward with a bottle of rum any man
 
 CANTO II. NOTES. 121 
 
 on board who could prove himself a match for him at single- 
 stick and give him a broken head ; but his rum was pretty 
 safe in the locker. He was the sailors' delight. They 
 loved him for his familiarity, respected him for his courage, 
 and feared him for his unflinching and strict enforcement of 
 discipline. He had, however one weak point, he was a 
 great heau ; even in his dishabille, silk stockings and 
 pumps were common with him ; and the tars when they 
 were concealed from his view would sometimes in merry 
 mood cry out — " I say Jack, smoke the heau.'' He bore 
 all with patience though secretly mortified. At last, he fell 
 in with a French frigate his superior in weight of metal 
 and number of men : the contest was short, but desperate ; 
 and in the heat of it when the two ships fouled, he called 
 his boarders, and bawling out with energy — " Notv's the 
 time to smoke the beau, my boys! now's the time to smoke the 
 beau!" he led them on, and carried the enemy, himself the 
 first to tread her deck. 
 
 STANZA XLIX. 
 
 (16) " The idlers and middies on the poop." 
 
 Correctly speaking, the term " idlers" is applicable to the 
 captain's steward, attendants, officer's servants, cooks, me- 
 chanics, &c ; — to all, indeed, who are exempt from keeping 
 the ship's watch.
 
 I~^~* NOTES. CANTO II. 
 
 STANZA LV. 
 
 (17) " To splice the Irave main brace." 
 
 1\) splice the main brace is to invigorate the exhausted 
 powers of nature with a glass of good stift" grog. 
 
 STANZA LVIII. 
 
 (18) " Too dark for utterance, and yet not new." 
 
 Tlie dreadful fate of the ladies and crew of the hapless 
 " Morning Star," may be fresh in the recollection of many 
 of my readers. This probability, together with a desire to 
 spare the feelings of the surviving sufferers, withholds a 
 description of the tragedy in detail. It is satisfactory to 
 know that the principal actors in the bloody drama were 
 executed. But the facts of this atrocious case, appalling 
 as they are, bear no comparison to those related in 
 the following brief abstract of a confession made by a 
 pirate in America, which confession was the means of 
 bringing the barbarians to justice. 
 
 " We bound ourselves by oath to spare no lives. We 
 fell in with a French merchantman from the Brazils bound 
 to Bourdeaux. We took her, and murdered all the crew, 
 except a French gentleman, passenger, and his daughter, a 
 beautiful girl of fourteen. She implored so eloquently for 
 her fathers life that the captain tried to save him, but one of
 
 CANTO II. NOTES. 123 
 
 the crew came up and shot him dead before his daughter's 
 face. We then sunk the ship. The captain kept the unhappy 
 child for the gratification of his unhallowed passion until 
 they came in sight of land, when the crew insisted that she 
 should be shot ; which was done against the captain's wishes 
 and even against his entreaties." 
 
 STANZA LXXXVIII. 
 
 (\9) " A rumour grew, the stranger vessel had 
 Just hauVd his wind," 
 
 When a vessel sailing before the wind, changes her course 
 to sail close to the •vvind, she is then said to " haul her 
 wind."
 
 Z A R A. 
 
 CANTO III. 
 
 I. 
 
 At the conclusion of the last canto, 
 
 We left the two sliips sailing side by side ; 
 
 The stranger seeming somewhat like a foe, 
 Who wished beneath a merchant's guise to hide, 
 
 His force in arms and men, just merely to 
 Let fly his great guns ere they were descried ; 
 
 A rather ugly customer I o\mi, 
 
 To meet at sea by " moonhght," and " alone." (1)
 
 I~'0 ZARA. 
 
 CANTO III. 
 
 II. 
 
 To merchant sliips I mean, not men-of-war ; 
 
 To iheni such customer woukl be a treat. 
 Sweet as a Sjianish prize from Peru, or 
 
 As fly to spider would be passing sweet, 
 To chncli within his handy sailor's claw (2) 
 
 And strangle in his web ; — 'tis fair to beat 
 In poesy for similies as these; 
 If very good (as this) they're sure to please. 
 
 III. 
 
 As frequently the case, a gentle haze 
 A misty curtain o'er the ocean threw ; 
 
 The sun eflulgent beamed his golden rays, 
 
 And lulled the breeze that rather freshly blew ; 
 
 The sky had clouded been for many days, 
 
 Save liere and there a streak of heavenly bhie ; 
 
 Its tinge reflected on the sea as seen, 
 
 Wa-s light blue here, and there, a darkish green.
 
 CANTO III. ZARA. 127 
 
 IV. 
 
 The stranger filled his topsail and dashed on, 
 Close to windward, and quiet as could be ; 
 
 Nor voice nor whisper even broke upon 
 
 The sighing breeze, except the murm'ring sea 
 
 Low dashuig 'gainst the vessel's side : — Stanton 
 Eyed well his deck, his every minutice 
 
 Of rig, and mouldings, fittings up, and then 
 
 He sought for guns and arms, and more, for men. 
 
 V. 
 
 His telescope was one of Donold's, and 
 They are, I think, of telescopes the best ; 
 
 The " name " at least, as magic's mighty wand, 
 Has wrought a wondrous sale, and solves the test 
 
 (So few in this wise age misunderstand) 
 
 Of " wliat's in a name ?" — as all are in quest 
 
 Of super-excellence, in their o%vn line, 
 
 A name to gain, then riches, love, and wine.
 
 128 ZARA. CANTO III. 
 
 VI. 
 
 All vastly pleasant in a pvudtMit way, 
 
 But scarcely ever gained (O the perverse 
 
 And tantalizing world !) till the heyday 
 
 Of halcyon youth, and pleasure smiles disperse 
 
 Before the blight of age, and minds decay ; 
 
 The greatest treasure then no doubt's — a nurse, 
 
 Except the retrospect (and better none) 
 
 Of life well spent, and of good actions done. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Despite of Stanton's matcliless telescope, 
 
 Of warlike arms or stores he could see none ; 
 
 Although the sailors did indulge a hope 
 
 The stranger would ere set of that day's sun, 
 
 His subtle guise unveil, and develope 
 
 At least a few more li.inds, or shew of gun : 
 
 As 'twas, a lad and seamen only three. 
 
 Were gazing now at him, then o'er the lee.
 
 CANTO III. ZARA. 129 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Now just abaft the mizen chains, and by 
 
 The comings of an after-cabin port, 
 Through opening left by a shattered buU's-eye, (3) 
 
 A spyglass glar'd, or something of the sort ; 
 This " looked not well;" and Stanton wondered why 
 
 The gazer should, whoe'er he was, resort 
 To arts as those, his person to conceal ; 
 And doubts had he, he chose not to reveal. 
 
 IX. 
 
 His glass he swept o'er all the stranger bark, 
 From trim of sail to finish of his tafrail; 
 
 From stem to stern, from truck to water-mark, 
 Until he saw, half-hid beneath a sail, 
 
 A grapnell's prong ; and 'neatli a hatch, though dark, 
 Some seamen arm'd ; 'twas thsn the stranger's hail, 
 
 At once dispell'd his searching scrutiny, 
 
 And ears as eyes were then on the, qui vice. 
 
 K
 
 130 ZARA. CANTO III. 
 
 X 
 
 There was a seaman leaning careless o'er, 
 His hammock rails abaft the lee gang^vay, 
 
 Of sullen phiz, and sloven dress he wore ; — 
 (The sailor's disliubille at sea, though gay 
 
 Wlien cash is flush and squandering on shore ;) 
 In years not green, at least liis hair was gray, 
 
 Wlio hail'd, in voice subdued, as friend might do, 
 
 " What ships that, pray ? and where are you bound to ? 
 
 XI. 
 
 A speaking-trumpet lay by Stanton's side, 
 
 (They are conductors, good ones, too, of soimd,) 
 
 Wliich to his lips he placed, and bluif replied, 
 " The Sph}aix of London, to the Indies bound :" 
 
 The stranger then the Sphjnx in silence eyed, 
 
 As, say the learned, " in depth of tliought profound ;" 
 
 But soon his tone he changed, and bluffly roar'd, 
 
 " Back your main topsail, send your boat on board."
 
 CANTO III. ZARA. 131 
 
 XII. 
 
 The eye of Stanton flash'd like fire then ; 
 
 Though small in stature, he possess'd the merit 
 Supposed to be innate in little men, 
 
 The world deem great, (4) that is, he did inherit , 
 'Mong other virtues (faults I never pen,) 
 
 A noble mind, and most unyielding spirit ; 
 He trod the deck with kingly tread, and fro\\ii'd, 
 " Sea monarch" like, though not exactly crown'd. (5) 
 
 XIII. 
 
 He wore a smile of caustic irony, 
 
 Of anger fierce, and most complete disdain, 
 
 And thought no more of deigning a reply, 
 Than plunging headlong in the briny main ; 
 
 Or traversing the moon with you or I : 
 
 " Stand by yoiu' guns! — stand-by ! " he cried : again 
 
 The stranger hail'd, imperious as before. 
 
 In loud, and drawling, bull-like, blaring roar. 
 
 K 2
 
 132 ZARA. CANTO 111. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 .Siiq)rise, all said, was brooding in some way; 
 
 By all 'twas thought deep treachery lurk'd behind ; 
 But where, or how, no one presumed to say ; 
 
 The lack of men and guns of every kind, 
 Looked too much like the trick of mere dis])lay, 
 
 And viewed by all was as a common blind, 
 To shelter some dark scheme matured, yet unreveal'd: 
 But now a Stranger rose to view, as yet conceal'd. 
 
 XV. 
 
 A man of slender form appeared on deck, 
 But graceful, tall, and full of dignity ; 
 
 His very presence threw a sudden check 
 
 On others of the crew, and they were three; 
 
 Each strict attending to his look or beck. 
 
 With eager eyes, though sonu'what tim'rously, 
 
 And shrunk beneath his fierce glance like a leaf, 
 
 From Boreas' blast, or slave before a chief.
 
 CANTO III. ZARA. 133 
 
 XVI. 
 
 His years were green ; they were presumed to be 
 
 Fast verging on that age which Avon's bard 
 (In morals skilled as well as minstrelsy) 
 The " foiu'th" age terms, — when passion needs a guard 
 To stiU the warm blood of fierce twenty -three ; 
 Yet seemingly some inward grief had marr'd 
 The gladness of his youth, and his faint smile. 
 Mere mock'ry seemed of ease, and tort'ring guile. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 He wore a beaver cap mth golden band ; 
 
 A cloak of Indian wooUen, light and blue, 
 And never hero shewed a whiter hand ; 
 
 From 'neath liis vest a telescope he drew. 
 And cooUy near the capstan took his stand; 
 
 The Spliinx and aU her force passed in review 
 Before his momentary glance, and then, 
 He paused awhile, and beckon'd to his men.
 
 134 ZARA. CANTO 111. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 There was a reckless daring in his mien, 
 And in his tread as passing to and fro, 
 
 A dash of tender feehng, real or feign, 
 
 Soft beaming in his eyes, that seemed to throw 
 
 A shade as sweet as sunshine after rain, 
 
 O'er visage sad as e'er was dasli'd witli woe ; 
 
 And when liis men attended his command, 
 
 His cue he gave in manner soft and bland. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 They came and went, and came and went again ; 
 
 And in liis ear reveal'd in accents low. 
 Some bodings new that caused sui'prise and pain, 
 
 And deep suffused his face with ire's glow ; 
 His crimson 'd cheek witliin his hand was lam ; 
 
 His sailors silent travers'd to and fro 
 The broad white dick, then slowly thrumiu'd a sail. 
 With looks that aU but said — " There hangs a tale."
 
 CANTO III. ZARA. 135 
 
 XX. 
 
 • 
 
 Thus leaning o'er the capstan he appear'd, 
 Absorb'd in gloom, and painful meditation ; 
 
 But soon a smile his pallid visage cheer' d, 
 As if solaced by inward consolation ; 
 
 As riven heart, by keen reverses seared. 
 Is heal'd by chimeras of Hope's creation ; 
 
 He wav'd liis men below and then again, 
 
 Resimied his gallant and commanding mien. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Alone he stood on deck, and seem'd to wear 
 A heart and mind to lawless passions wed ; 
 
 Just so at least he seemd as he stood there, 
 With visage haggard, and a bold forehead. 
 
 In outKne beautiful, and snowy fair, 
 Impressively and finely contrasted. 
 
 With fine dark eyes and lashes long that met, 
 
 The rising thought, with bushy brows of jet.
 
 136 ZARA. CANTO 111. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 As lion couchant 'neatli the wild palm tree 
 AVliose shady leaves divert the solar ray, 
 
 With patience watches tho' a hungred he 
 From dawn of morn to close of sultry day 
 
 The jungle path, till rousing suddenly 
 
 His eye-balls glare as footsteps near liis way. 
 
 So flash'd the stranger's eye with sparkling fire, 
 
 The soul-diverging flame of, deadly ire. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 On the lee gangway stem he took his stand, 
 And witli a proud hut not disdainfid aii". 
 
 He cast aside his cloak ; his snowy hand 
 
 Smooth'd the long tresses of his jet-black hair. 
 
 That gently floated in the south, yet bland 
 
 And steady breeze ; just then his form would bear 
 
 Comparison with delicate Adonis — 
 
 The ladies favoui'ite he, we all know is.
 
 CANTO III. 
 
 ZARA. 137 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Reader ! did terror ere thy bosom thrill ? 
 
 Wert ever self-debased with pale-faced awe ? — 
 Did ere thy warm blood freeze, or sudden chill, 
 
 At shout of foeman rushing on to war ? 
 Did ever human voice, unearthly shrill, 
 
 Or lordly stern, unman thee with terror ? 
 Prhaps not; but hadst thou heard the stranger's hail. 
 And lion thou, it would have made thee quail. (6) 
 
 XXV. 
 
 O ! 'twas a dire, dismal, piercing yell, 
 
 A wild unearthly sound, as sometimes made 
 
 By screaming thunder's echo thro' a dell, 
 
 O'ertopp'd by rocks in solitude's deep shade, 
 
 Piercing the lone heart with unearthly knell : — 
 
 ^^ Strike your flag! to the black death — strike!" he said ; 
 
 " And quickly lay your topsail to the mast, 
 
 Or by yon su7i, this day shall he your last!''
 
 138 ZARA. CANTO III. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Just then his proud tri-colour hid its head ; 
 
 'Twas struck, in short, by one Avhose face was new, 
 And wore a smile, metlioufijht, as in its stead, 
 
 Tlie Hag he hoisted gaily lluttering flew, 
 In the soutli breeze: — 'twas black, with border red; 
 
 (A Hag ne'er seen before by SphjTix's crew,) 
 And scarce a second had it hoisted been, 
 When other traits of foenian's guise were seen. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 His low black hull and naiTow moulding red, 
 Display'd no trait of ports for gunnery, 
 
 Until a sailor from liis figuro-hcad. 
 Had quickly cast a halser in the sea ; 
 
 When, magic like, a false side followed. 
 Of painted canvas, a mere trickery — 
 
 To screen his ports ; — its fitting so complete, 
 
 "Twould baffle luunan eye to trace deceit. (7)
 
 CANTO III. ZARA. 139 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Deceit, or guile, or what you will, but aU 
 The sons (and daughters too) of Adam sinjce, 
 
 The distant epoch of the first sad faU, 
 
 Have known thee ; — aU ! from peasant to the prince, 
 
 To belles of ton, at masquerade, or ball ; 
 
 Where sigliing sadness dressed in smiles evince, 
 
 Thy aU-dissembUng and despotic sway ; 
 
 Say, will the world e'er cast thy mask away ? 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 In LOVE, deceit's (too often) prevalent ; 
 
 In war, it forms the source and soul of it ; 
 In chm'ch, or state, or in the lone convent, 
 
 'Tis known as easy as a glove to fit ; 
 In medicine, it brings emolument ; 
 
 The lawyers cannot live without, to wit. 
 Its wily, grave, dissembling, sapient face ; 
 Though all conceal it with becoming grace.
 
 140 ZARA. CANTO III. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 The BLACK DEATH now disclaimed all treachery ; 
 
 The mask was cast completely from his brow, 
 When fell his false side in the briny sea. 
 
 Revealing suddenly a pretty row 
 Of warlike ports, trimmed to a nicety ; 
 
 And through them peering blank from stern to bow, 
 A tier of long twelve pounders, all run out, 
 In number ten, I think, or thereabout. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 A swarm of young but lusty haly men. 
 
 Of colour varying from black to fair, 
 Rushed from below on deck, with arms ; and then 
 
 From 'neath the booms some great guns covered there, 
 And ready mounted (nine there were or ten). 
 
 To lee were whirled, and quickly brought to bear 
 U])on the Sphynx ; a decent batter}', 
 Of long-twelve pounders, altogether, twenty.
 
 CANTO III. ZARA. 141 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 And all these movements were observed to be 
 
 In seaman-like and " ship-shape " style (8) effected ; 
 
 The stranger's hail, his flag struck suddenly, 
 The hoisting of the black one, bordered red — 
 
 The casting of his false side in the sea — 
 The shew of warlike ports and guns, instead 
 
 Of canvas skreen, the rising of his crew, — 
 
 All was the work of a minute or two. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 And now ensued the thoughts that intervene, 
 'Tween preparation and the blow, of death ; (9) 
 
 Wlien e'en the bravest of the brave are seen, 
 Bereft of daring valor's smiling wreath, — 
 
 Of pm-pose firm, or manly spirit e'en ; 
 
 Then freezing silence reigns ;. and scarce a breath 
 
 Is heard to sigh upon the air or sea, 
 
 As hovering o'er the gulph, eternity.
 
 112 ZARA. cA^To iii. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 'Tis easy in that silence to descry 
 
 Tlie gloomy bodintj^s of the conscious mind, 
 That 'tis indeed a fearful thing, to die ; 
 
 And other thoughts of heart-corroding kind. 
 Of %vife, or child, or other cherished tie, 
 
 Left to the mercies of a world unkind, 
 Will intei-jiose to sap the nerves, until 
 The fight begins, and blood is seen to spill: — 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 Impetuous then as Etna's roaring fire, 
 The spirit flashes from the anger'd soul, 
 
 In vivid flame of fierce relentless ire. 
 
 As whirlwind wild and dead to self-control ; 
 
 The brow contracted scowls with vengeance dire ; 
 The eye-balls wildly in their sockets roU ; 
 
 And swift as mist dispelled by Afric's sun, 
 
 Reflection flies when once the fight's begun.
 
 CANTO III. ZARA. 143 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 Still as a vault, or silent as the dead 
 
 Therein immured, the Sphynx's crew were when, 
 The stranger's hail had ceased ; a thrill of dread, — 
 
 As if a form in\asible had then 
 Their hearts and minds in abject fetters led, 
 
 And left them spiritless and unnerv'd men, — 
 Pervaded all ; until his op'ning fire. 
 Dissolved the spell, and roused the Hon's ire. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 'Twas scarce a moment after Stanton's cheer, 
 Broke on the sombre broodings of his crew ; 
 
 Scarce had he said, " Stand by, below !" and ere 
 The volmne of his voice as thunder flew. 
 
 O'er the stiH ship, than stranger-shot whizz'd near 
 His cheek, suffusmg it with crimson hue ; — 
 
 He felt it scorch, it posed him for a while ; 
 
 But miss, they say, as good is as a mile.
 
 144 ZARA. CANTO III. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 It certos bruslicd close by liini — so much so, 
 He felt its whirl, and blaring, hissing whiz, 
 
 l*recisely in the manner oi" a blow, 
 
 Aimed by determined bruiser at your phiz. 
 
 That just had missed its mark, (and which, I trow, 
 A rather lucky miss considered is ; 
 
 Especially when warding, in a hurry, 
 
 The fistic eloquence of— 71/. P. Gully.) 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 It scarcely entered Stanton's mind to view 
 
 His late escape in any other light 
 Than £is a casualty, by no means new 
 
 In battle's breeze, or any kind of fight ; 
 But moments for reflection he had few ; 
 
 Another shot two seamen killed outright : — 
 'Twas then he answered black death's courtesy, 
 By pouring in a broadside at his lee.
 
 CANTO III. ZARA. 14/; 
 
 XL. 
 
 Most animating- was the Sphynx's cheer, 
 As lion's roar when bounding on its prey, 
 
 That followed opening fire, and 'twas clear 
 The metal of the crew was roused to a 
 
 Courageous daring quite, or very near, 
 Approaching to a phrenzy for the fray ; 
 
 But ere the flash of pan or roar was done, 
 
 The Black Death's fire blazed from every gun. 
 
 XLI. 
 
 In both the ships the flash and roar of gun, 
 The cheer of seamen, and the hollow moan 
 
 Of wounded and the dying, soon begun 
 To clash upon the ear ; and many a groan 
 
 Was drowned in shrieks and yells ; and many an one 
 Beheld the sun (that then in splendour shone) 
 
 For the last time, and with a parting sigh, 
 
 And languid smile, lay quiet down to — die.
 
 I 1() ZARA. CANTO III. 
 
 XLII. 
 
 Tliou smile in death, of liope the cheering ray ! 
 
 Ill uU of those beloved we fiin would trace; 
 Thou mockery sad, suLlimely awful, say, 
 
 Wert thou the impress of innate solace. 
 As sped thy spirit to eternal day ? 
 
 Or Resignation's beam upon thy face. 
 To leave a world replete with cares as this, 
 In full assurance of eternal bliss ? 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 That point I leave to others to define, 
 The metaphysician or the doctor ; 
 
 To sage philosophy or the divine, 
 Or tliose, familiar with death in war. 
 
 Have seen the veil in dying men, o'ershine 
 The glassy eye, nor felt a thriU of awe; 
 
 By sucli fierce scorn, or hate, or calmness may, 
 
 Even in death be seen to wear its trait.
 
 CANTO III. ZARA. 147 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 And so it was upon the Sphynx's deck, 
 
 In every diversity of shade 
 The grisly monarch wears : there lay the wreck, 
 
 Promiscuous strewed, of those who then had paid 
 The last sad debt at the grim tyrant's beck ; 
 
 Their grave unwept, in ocean's bed unmade ; 
 Meanwhile the battle fiercely raged, and blood. 
 The decks and scuppers crimsoned, like a flood. 
 
 XLV. 
 
 The vessels now alongside were sailing, 
 
 Their yard-arms touching almost each other; 
 
 And the appalling and terrific din, 
 
 In both were thus redoubled, as it were ; 
 
 But they so densely were enveloped in 
 
 The battle smoke and flame, that the stranger 
 
 Was seen but indistinctly now and then. 
 
 But always bravely cheering on his men. 
 
 ■m 
 L 2
 
 18 ZAIIA. CANTO III. 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 Erect and finii lie stood, as one long tried 
 In warlike deeds, and knew its horrors well ; 
 
 He cheered his men, and cast on those who died, 
 A parting glance, as howled the wound-pang yell, 
 
 And saw the d}dng gape for water wide, 
 
 And heard the shots whiz past liim like a hell. 
 
 In stoic calmness worthy Talleyrand, 
 
 Or most accomplished courtier of the land (10). 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 The thunder of his guns as daemon-knell, 
 Precursor was of liavock, far and ^vide ; 
 
 Few of liis shots, if any, failed to tell ; 
 
 'Twas at the instant of the first broadside, 
 
 The Sphynx's Captain, heaved a groan and feU ; 
 A bullet pierced his side and heart, — he died ; 
 
 Nor waved he a farewell, nor spake he word, 
 
 But lay down calm as then he but slumbcr'd.
 
 CANTO III. ZARA. 149 
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 Young Stanton felt a Kttle shock'd: " Poor Staines!" 
 Said he, — " tlie doctor's art can naught avail 
 
 Thee now ! "Well — well — what fate of war ordains, 
 Must be endured, tis folly to bewail ;" 
 
 And then he gently folded his remains 
 AVithin the remnant of a spare stay-sail : 
 
 Though not beloved alive, the sailors said, 
 
 " They wished the Purser lay there in his stead." 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 To fight the ship devolved on Stanton now, 
 And none so willuig though extremely hoarse ; 
 
 A crimson blush o'erspread his face and brow, 
 
 The offspring perhaps (if traced to nature's source) 
 
 Of wild dehght and unsubdued sorrow ; 
 The latter, for his Captain's fall, of course, 
 
 Dehght, that he Conunander was at last ; 
 
 A post his heart had yearned for, some years past.
 
 150 ZARA. CANTO HI. 
 
 L. 
 
 His swollen bosom scarce with rapture beat 
 
 A Hash or change of thought, than battle raged 
 
 In both the ships with more determined heat, 
 Than ever ; the maw of death was not assuaged 
 
 Though slak'd with streams of blood ; he reign'd complete, 
 A king of terrors, hideously visaged, 
 
 With scoffing laughter mocking dying moans, 
 
 And gi-inning horribly at human groans. 
 
 LI. 
 
 As moon biu-sts on the view in azure sky, 
 When bared by fleeting clouds of silver hue, 
 
 So, as the smoke at inten'als passed by, 
 
 The stranger's hull and sails burst to the view ; 
 
 Young Stanton watched him with an Argus' eye ; 
 And thought it strange (as certainly 'twas true,) 
 
 The smoke dispersed, the instant to discern. 
 
 His object was to, rake him by the stern.
 
 CANTO III. 
 
 ZARA. 151 
 
 LII. 
 
 His sails were back'd, and he was nearing fast 
 The Sphynx's stern ; his hideous figure head, 
 
 Exactly for the weather quarter cast, 
 Near Zara's cabin, now quite deserted ; 
 
 But ere athwart the stern the Death's-head passed, 
 Young Stanton " saw his di-ift," he smiling said, 
 
 Ajid instantly his own ship smartly wore. 
 
 Closing in fight as fierce just as before : — 
 
 LIII. 
 
 Save only now to windward ; soon he lent 
 His sable foe a " taste of the sublime ;" 
 
 His blood was up ; his main-topsail was rent ; 
 A shot, his bell sent tingHng its last chime ; 
 
 The stranger's fore top-gallant mast then went ; 
 Next, his jib-boom ; and just about this time 
 
 They both received some damages severe. 
 
 Though 'twould be needless to detail them here.
 
 152 ZARA. CANTO III. 
 
 LIV. 
 
 War's horrors may be well concealed from view ; 
 
 Yet were there two scenes I must needs relate, 
 Among abounding war-pangs not a few, 
 
 O'l the heart-rending kind : and lii-st, the fate 
 Of a young saUor lad ('tis strictly true) ; (11) 
 
 The recital may very like create, 
 In tender female breasts, a lively tlu-ill 
 Of sympathy ; if not, why, nothing will. 
 
 LV. 
 
 He fourteen summers scarce had seen, not more ; 
 
 Of disposition pliant, manners mild. 
 As a young girl's ; his neck of ivory bore 
 
 A cluster of fair ringlets, floating wUd, 
 And graceful on the breeze ; the day before 
 
 He left Lis home, (he was an only child) 
 His mother smoothed his brow, and weeping sore. 
 She said, " Poor lad — ijoiCll never see me more .'"
 
 CANTO III. ZARA. 153 
 
 LVI. 
 
 The roar of cannon, the appalKng cry 
 
 Of mortal agony ; the vital stream 
 Fresh gushing from the wounds that met his eye, 
 
 Were more than he could bear ; a terror-scream 
 Escaped his lips ; he lay apparently, 
 
 As one who slept, and struggled in his dream 
 Within a demon's grasp : the boatswain drew 
 His cutlass from his belt, and ran him through : — 
 
 LVIL 
 
 Right through the heart ; he did not groan, but sighed, 
 
 And mildly, as his spirit took its wing. 
 To less ('tis hoped) imdemon scenes : — he died ; 
 
 The boatswain raised his cutlass, still reeking 
 With liis warm crimson stream of life, and cried, — 
 
 (As if he'd done a meritorious thing) 
 " So let a COWARD die ! there — be" he roared, 
 " His grave /" — the corpse he then threw overboard.
 
 l.Jl ZAUA. CANTO III. 
 
 LVIII. 
 
 The second case was very near ?.s bad ; 
 
 (** 'Tis true 'tis pity ; pity 'tis 'tis true") ; 
 The body of a fine young Irish lad 
 
 Was pierced by a grape-shot completely through ; 
 He leant against the capstan, and just had 
 
 Sufficient consciousness to know he drew 
 His dymg breath ; he piteous moaned, and pressed 
 His cruel wound, his head fell on his breast. 
 
 LIX. 
 
 He gasped for breath, his glassy eyes grew dim ; 
 
 He stiU was on his legs, and could not die ! 
 And yet you might completely see througli him, 
 
 So large appeared the shot-wound cavity; 
 At last he fainter grew, nor moved a hmb, 
 
 liut he did speak, although in feeble cry. 
 And indistinct " Oh, throw vie overboard T 
 The boatswain came, and took him at his word.
 
 CANTO III. 
 
 ZARA. 155 
 
 LX. 
 
 In short he dash'd him headlong in the sea, 
 Then quiet lull'd by cannons' deaf 'ning roar, 
 
 Ahnost to a cahn ; his mangled body 
 
 Descended fast ; and the blue ocean bore, 
 
 A surface clear as a transparency ; 
 
 But ere he siuik from view, his hands before 
 
 His breast he clasped, then backward droop'd his head ; 
 
 Some few air bubbles rose, and he was dead. 
 
 LXI. 
 
 Whether 'twas chance, or fate, or what you will, 
 Mars' mahce, or Miss Fortune's mockery. 
 
 Or whether the tradition's true that still 
 Maintains — " there does preside a destiny 
 
 O'er every ball that's cast, and doom'd to kill 
 Or wound its man" a mystery is to me ; (12) 
 
 But true it is, the very next shot blew 
 
 The boatswain's hand away, and shoulder too.
 
 lo() ZARA. 
 
 CANTO III. 
 
 LXII. 
 
 He did howl ! and, O, how he did blaspheme ! 
 
 The very sea-breeze sigh'd as if 'twere tainted ; 
 His large green eyes as hell-kites seemed to beam 
 
 A fury horrible, until he fainted, 
 With loss of blood. But 'tis a gloomy theme 
 
 To picture human horrors, live or dead ; 
 The task most painful is, but quite imperative ; 
 It forms the link connecting our narrative. 
 
 LXIII. 
 
 His limbs were cast in the Herculean mould, (13) 
 Large brawny shoulders, hard as adamant ; 
 
 His heart as hard, and desperately bold ; 
 He knew no friend, nor either did he want ; 
 
 Rough as the life in which he had gro\\Ti old, 
 The roar of wind and waves were consonant 
 
 To his drear mind ; the seamen's fealty , 
 
 He kept ahve by stripes and blasphemy.
 
 CANTO III. ZARA. 157 
 
 LXIV. 
 
 His visage hideous was, a maudlin fright, 
 
 Expressive (if expression were at all) 
 Of callous, brutal savegeness ; it might 
 
 Wlien rous'd to rage, a Fury's self appall ; 
 His green eyes in his broad face twinkled bright ; 
 
 His nose was large and curved, his mouth was small ; 
 His thick swarth neck bedecked with bushy hair, 
 Was worn (as sailors do at sea) quite bare. 
 
 LXV. 
 
 The hemorrhage of his wound was soon staid ; 
 
 A ligature of canvas was appKed 
 Tight roimd the stump, while he in stupor laid, 
 
 WMch stopped the blood directly ; then he sighed. 
 One minute, and the next an effort made 
 
 To rise, but fell, then howl'd, and raved, and cried, 
 (All in a breath), then tore his hair imtil. 
 They took him to the doctors, 'gainst his will.
 
 158 ZARA. CANTO Ml. 
 
 LXVI. 
 
 Tlie veil from off the gloomy deck below, 
 We'll now remove, to take a hasty glance 
 
 Of ])ast and passing scenes, where haggard woe, 
 Sent forth her sighs and wails, and where the lance 
 
 Of death, promiscuous quivered to and fro. 
 To mock the surgeon's skill, and baffle chance, 
 
 AVliere'er chance was, a wound might turn out well ; 
 
 Meanwhile the battle raged, and more men fell. 
 
 LXVIl. 
 
 'Twas from the period Stanton's captain fell, 
 And shot first whiz'd among the Sphynx's crew, 
 
 D(n\'n to the moment the wild boatswain's yell. 
 Broke on the breeze that still in tremors blew, 
 
 The wounded 'gan to throng the surgeons' cell, 
 Who both were green in years and practice too. 
 
 Unless on subjects dead, and even they, 
 
 Since TJurkers fell, fell rarely in their way. (14)
 
 CANTO III. ZARA. 159 
 
 LXVIII. 
 
 They lack'd not subjects then, they had them more 
 Than needed was, nor wished for fresh suppKes ; 
 
 Indeed they came down ahnost by the score, 
 And wistful cast their faint imploring eyes, 
 
 As strewed they lay imbrued in their own gore 
 To take their turn to feel the agonies 
 
 Of fretting wounds renewed by surgeon's knife. 
 
 To vivify the ebbing stream of life. 
 
 LXIX. 
 
 Some lost a leg or arm, and others two ; 
 
 Some, woimds severe endured, others sKght ones ; 
 Others beneath the knife their last breath drew ; 
 
 Some amputation bore, the roar of guns 
 And human groans piercing like lightning thro' 
 
 The female breasts, then rife with sensations 
 Of awe and terror such they never knew. 
 
 Nor e'er beheved such horrors could be true.
 
 IGO ZARA. CANTO in. 
 
 LXX. 
 
 If earthly horrors e'er did rcahze 
 
 Those said to be beyond tlie Stygian stream ; — 
 Those dolefid shades where Joy frighted flies 
 
 The molten bosom, never more to gleam 
 With Hope, to quench the worm that never dies ; 
 
 WHiere Time itself dissolves to " by-gone dream," — 
 It was the deck below, with dead and dying strewed, 
 With shrieks and yells resounding, now hush'd — now renewed. 
 
 LXXI. 
 
 Yet was there one young female form seen there. 
 Who like a seraph flew to succour all, 
 
 With needful and immediate aid where'er 
 The voice of Agony was heard to call 
 
 For — help! — And that lovely form was, Zara : 
 Surroimding scenes might very well appall 
 
 A stouter heart ; but her's was one of those, 
 
 That never ceased to beat for others' woes.
 
 CANTO III. ZARA. 161 
 
 LXXII. 
 
 When life was ebbing fast and near its end ; 
 
 When burning tliirst with parch'd lips gaping wide, 
 Its torment howled, then Zara would attend, 
 
 Moisten the lips, and kneehng by the side. 
 Her soothing voice of tenderness would blend 
 
 With cares more tender, 'till the languid tide 
 Of Kfe, exhausted grown, she then would offer prayer ; 
 The placid smile in death rewarding well her care. 
 
 LXXIII; 
 
 This development of heroic mind. 
 
 In one so young, who ne'er before had seen 
 Horror unmasked, or strife of any kind. 
 
 Beyond the precincts of a village green. 
 Surprised her mother, who had felt resigned, 
 
 Till Zara's image in the dreadful scene 
 Fan'd her fond love ; then resignation fled. 
 Her heart from every pore with torture bled. 
 
 M
 
 162 ZARA. CANTO III. 
 
 LXXIV. 
 
 Wlicre danger is, matern' solicitude 
 
 Is doubtless torture, (so at least 'tis said ;) 
 
 And lier's was not assuaged by scenes she viewed, 
 Tbo' for herself she felt not much afraid ; 
 
 But when the boatswain's mangled form imbrued, 
 With crunson gore, at Zara's feet was laid. 
 
 And the di'ear den with imprecations rung. 
 
 Most horrible, her nerves were quite unstrung. 
 
 LXXV. 
 
 The rough old seaman seemed delirious ; 
 
 He raved as then he led the battle fray ; 
 The sui'geon's aid refusing with a curse, 
 
 And would have torn his bandages away. 
 Had not they held him down : — " my wound! 'tis worse! 
 
 Ha ! board!" he cried: " Up from below! the day — 
 Is our's!" — Then with a scofiing, hectic roar, — 
 Of hideous laughter, raved on as before.
 
 CANTO III. ZARA. 163 
 
 LXXVI. 
 
 All kind of consolation he defied ; 
 
 The surgeon said he would, if left alone, 
 Exhaust himself; but still he raved and cried. 
 
 By turns, as intervened each hollow moan. 
 Till Zara spake, as kneeling by his side. 
 
 In clear but silver voice and soothing tone, 
 " Unhappy man ! such impious words forbear. 
 And seek for penitence, in fervent prayer." 
 
 LXXVII. 
 
 At Zara's voice his raving sudden ceased ; 
 
 O'er her young form his eyes were wildly cast, 
 In ecstacy, as if liis soul were eased 
 
 Of scorpion stings, and terror's pang was passed ; 
 Thus gazing on her face, he gently squeezed 
 
 Her finger-ends, and, groaning, breathed his last 
 He bled to death, contri\ing as he lay, 
 To bite or tear his bandages away. 
 
 m2
 
 166 ZARA. CANTO III. 
 
 LXXVIII. 
 
 This last sad scene was terrible indeed ; 
 
 It left pooor Zara motionless with awe ; 
 She could not rise, nor took she further heed 
 
 Of passing scenes, although the clash of war 
 Ran liigh, and voices new were heard to plead. 
 
 For mercy : At this time it was she saw, 
 A STRANGER near her panting hard for breath ; 
 'Twas the young captain of the bold Black Death ! 
 
 LXXIX. 
 
 Yes ! that strange, daring renegade, — but stay ; 
 
 Unravelled be his faults or virtues yet ; 
 Whate'er they were, you'll read some futui'e day ; 
 
 But for the present, we had better let 
 The interest of this Canto pass away, 
 
 For one brief hour ; we must not forget. 
 My fierce Pegasus needs some slight repose. 
 He wild and wayward is, as gale that blows.
 
 CANTO III. ZARA. 165 
 
 LXXX. 
 
 On let him dash then at a reckless rate, 
 Until he gain a footing on the land, 
 
 Where live the marine genii, and the fate 
 , Of mortal heroes wove by fairy hand, 
 
 Recorded is ; to read them will create 
 In me a rapture I can scarce withstand 
 
 To share with courteous readers, high or low ; 
 
 Then let us see what says the last Canto. 
 
 END OF CANTO III.
 
 NOTES TO CANTO III
 
 NOTES TO CANTO III. 
 
 STANZA I. 
 
 (I) " A rather ugly customer I own 
 
 To meet at sea, by " moonlight " and " alone." 
 
 Alluding to the recent very popular burden of, " Meet 
 me by moonlight alone." 
 
 STANZA II. 
 
 (2) " Sweet as a Spanish prize from Peru, or 
 
 As fiy to spider would he passing sweet. 
 
 To clinch within his handy sailor's claw." 
 
 The opinion which the author once heard expressed by 
 a true son of the ocean, " that sailors were originally in- 
 debted for the most valuable and intricate of their knots to 
 the microscopic observation of the spider working at its 
 web," may have been erroneous ; yet, doubtless, that insect 
 is sufficiently skilful to entitle it to the distinction of pos- 
 sessing a " handy sailor's claw."
 
 170 NOTES, CANTO III. 
 
 STANZA VII r. 
 
 (3) " 'riirouijli upcuiiii/ left lii/ a shuttered bull's-cije." 
 
 A " buH's-eye " is a glass, cither flat or serni-glohular, 
 and of the thickness of two inches, fixed in the side of a 
 cabin, or on the deck, for the purpose of admitting liglit 
 u lu'ii the boisterous state of the weather renders it impossi- 
 ble to open the ports or hatchways without danger. 
 
 STANZA XII. 
 
 (4) *^ he possessed the merit. 
 
 Supposed to be innate in little men, 
 The world deem great." 
 
 Tlio autlior here alludes to the almost proverbial remark, 
 that nature very seldom fails to endow those who are in 
 stature more than ordinarily diminutive, with a more than 
 usual share of mental power, and especially to compensate 
 tlicm with a " proud and domineering spirit, impatient of 
 control." 
 
 (5) " Sea-monarch like, though not exactly crowned." 
 
 A captain of a British man-of-war may be truly said Lo 
 be " a monarch on the sea." Indeed, the cajitain of an 
 Ivist liuliamaii |)()ssesses a power almost equally absolute.
 
 CANTO III. NOTES. 171 
 
 STANZA XXIV. 
 
 (6) " hadst thou heard the stranger's hail, 
 
 And lion thou, it would have made thee quail." 
 
 So important is a commanding voice to a naval or military 
 man, that I once heard a very distinguished officer remark, 
 that, in a young aspirant for naval or military fame, the 
 coiirage of a Nelson or a Wellington, or the master-mind of 
 a Napoleon, would be absolutely neutralized in the absence 
 of that all important auxiliary — voice. 
 
 STANZA XXVII. 
 
 (^7) " its fitting so complete, 
 
 ' Twould bajfle human eye to trace deceit. 
 
 A mode of deceit frequently resorted to in the late war by 
 frigates, and privateers especially. 
 
 STANZA XXXII. 
 
 (8) " And all these movements were observed to he 
 In seaman-like and ' ship-shape'' style effected." 
 
 " Ship-shape " style, &c. ; a phrase very common with 
 sailors, applied to any thing done in a particularly clever 
 and sailor-like manner.
 
 172 NOTES. CANTO in. 
 
 STANZA XXXIII. 
 
 (9) " And now ensued the thoughts that intervene 
 'Tween preparation, and the blow of death J" 
 
 None but those who have witnessed the death-like still- 
 ness pervading the decks of a ship, between " the prepara- 
 tion and the blow of death," can form a correct idea of that 
 awe which is impressed on the minds and depicted in the 
 countenances of the crew ; an awe generally of the deepest 
 kind, but modified in the individual eitlier by education or 
 by temperament. 
 
 STANZA XLVI. 
 
 (10) " In stoic calmness worthy Talleyrand, 
 
 Or most accomplished courtier of the land.'' 
 
 This distinguished diplomatist is said to be so perfect a 
 master of his countenance, that, whether conversing with 
 friend or foe, king or minister, beau or belle, it is alike ille- 
 gible to all. 
 
 STANZA LIV. 
 
 (11) '' and first, the fate 
 
 Of a youmj sailor lad ('tis strictly true.)" 
 
 The narrative connected with this stanza, as well as that 
 alluded to in Stanza LVIIL, is founded on fact ; all the 
 incidents having happened under the eye of an intimate 
 friend of the author's, a lieutenant of the navy.
 
 CANTO III. NOTES. 173 
 
 STANZA LXI. 
 
 (12) ^^ there does preside a destiny, 
 
 O'er every ball that's cast, and doomed to kill 
 Or wound its man." 
 
 It is the common belief both of sailors and soldiers, that 
 " every bullet has its billet." 
 
 STANZA LXIII. 
 
 (13) " His limbs were cast in the Herculean mould." 
 This character is taken from real life. 
 
 STANZA LXVII. 
 
 (14) " Since Burkers fell, fell rarely in their way." 
 
 The allusion here is personal, and applies to two fiiends 
 of mine, who were under a course of medical tuition at 
 Edinburgh, at the time when the hellish practices of Burke, 
 that demon in human form, came to light. They were good 
 young fellows ; and used to say, jokingly, " since Burke 
 fell, nothing fell in their way."
 
 11
 
 Z A R A. 
 
 CANTO IV. 
 
 I. 
 
 There was a time the sober sage Hmdus 
 
 Were slaves to " custom ;" in the present age, 
 Old usages are going out of use. 
 
 And e'en with them Reform is quite the rage; (1) 
 And poets soon will cease to court the Muse; 
 
 Or crave her inspiration of their page ; 
 But mine's a " liberal ;" and, (if at all) 
 
 Will aid me willingly — without my call.
 
 17(5 ZARA. CANTO IV. 
 
 II. 
 
 Nor yet suppose, my gentle reader, I 
 
 Would wisli for any reason to be thought. 
 
 The least unmindful of her aid ; I'll try. 
 Indeed, to woo her, (as you'll find I ought) 
 
 For some rare beauties you'll read by-and-bye, 
 Altho" they were with no slight laboui* sought ; 
 
 But hackneyed invocations now would be. 
 
 Offensive to my muse's dignity. 
 
 III. 
 
 Yet in the path divine of poesy, 
 
 Obser\'ances there are, 'twould be a sin 
 
 To disregard, or at least, a pity ; 
 
 The chief, — the good old custom to begin 
 
 A canto, in an introductory 
 
 And pleasing way ; which never fails to win, 
 
 That meed of praise from critics, authors need ; 
 
 (Myself especially ;) — but to proceed.
 
 CANTO TV. ZARA. 177 
 
 IV. 
 
 In love, as war, there is a casualty, 
 
 Obscured by destiny's dark veil, from sight ; 
 But which decides our fate, whate'er it be ; 
 
 In love, to penitence, or love's delight. 
 In war, defeat, or glorious victory ; 
 
 And so in truth it is in a sea-fight. 
 Where random shot, or e'en a breath of air. 
 May blight the brightest prospect with despair. 
 
 V. 
 
 As Stanton with his crippled harassed crew, 
 Were concentrated on the forecastle, 
 
 In eagerness to board, or to renew 
 
 The battle fray, — the two ships sudden fell 
 
 On board each other ; both their grapnells threw ; 
 When fi'om the Stranger burst a wild war vell- 
 
 A fury blast — a prelude 'twas to slaughter, 
 
 And then the Sphynx was boarded, on the quarter. 
 
 N
 
 178 ZARA. CANTO IV. 
 
 VI. 
 
 'Twas an ill wind l)ut no less sure that blew, 
 Their bows apart, their quarters in caress, 
 
 The moment Stanton forward led his crew, 
 To board ; — ^his after-deck left defenceless ; 
 
 The Stranger boarded tlien : — he knew his cue, 
 And time, — well ; — as Phillidore says of chess, 
 
 " Ere you attack your enemy be sure, 
 
 Yourself from his attacks are quite secure." 
 
 VII. 
 
 Had Stanton borne in mind this sage counsel, 
 He very like might have averted this. 
 
 And other sad disasters that befell. 
 
 His harassed crew ; 'twas said, the fault was his. 
 
 (A princely game tliat chess ! I love it well ! 
 I think the sweetest antidote to care is, 
 
 ^^^u■n sore oppressed with gloom and loneliness, 
 
 A friend and claret, and a game of chess.)
 
 CANTO IV. ZARA. 179 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Impetuous as the overwhelming surge, 
 Resistless rushing o'er the sylvan shore, 
 
 And crowded nooks upon the shelving verge, 
 Of drowning Ai'arat, when ocean bore 
 
 The ark of life, as seen fu'st to emerge 
 
 From world expiring 'neath the deaf'ning roar, 
 
 Of waves and ram, so dash'd the Stranger's hands 
 
 On Sphynx's deck, in num'rous well-trained bands. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Then darted fmy from the fiery eye ; 
 
 Dreadful the carnage was and fierce the fray ; 
 Soldiers and sailors, eager seemed to vie. 
 
 In all the dangers of that bloody day ; 
 Until, as fate decreed, o'erpowered by — 
 
 O'erwhelming numbers, Stanton's crew gave way ; 
 At first but slowly, then they fairly ran, 
 As if a panic seized them — to a man. 
 
 N 2
 
 ISO ZARA. CANTO IV. 
 
 X. 
 
 But 'ere it came to this, young Stanton led 
 A liandful of his men to whence there came, 
 
 The hottest fire, where strewed around witli dead. 
 The Stranger battled with unerring aim, 
 
 From pistol-shot and small-sword reeking red, 
 
 With Kfe's warm stream, — his eye balls flashing flame 
 
 He seemed to wear a talismanic life, 
 
 No wound had he tho' foremost in the strife. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Him Stanton singled out and made a thrust, 
 
 Expert as Angelo, at his sword side, 
 But which was parried easily ; (lie must, 
 
 Have been a master swordsman ;) Stanton tried, 
 A feint — that failed ; then lunged home at his bust ; 
 
 ]3ut all his thrusts were parried well and wide; 
 And ere a flash of thought, young Stanton bled, 
 And fell apparently as he were dead.
 
 CANTO IV. ZARA. 181 
 
 XII. 
 
 'Twas then, and not before, his o'ermatched crew, 
 (Without a leader) aU were seen to flee, 
 
 Swift as the vanquished foe at Waterloo, 
 Or, (if you'd rather) — the plains of Cressy ; 
 
 They fled in short as fleet a:s most men do. 
 Or would, pursued by a fierce enemy. 
 
 Close at the heel, with pistol cock'd, and sword, 
 
 To slash, and will to throw them overboard. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Some on the yard-arms ran and met their fate, 
 
 By pistol shot, and fell into the sea ; 
 Others, (among whom was the boatswain's mate. 
 
 The carpenter, some sailors and Wanley), 
 Fled down below for safety, there to wait 
 
 Impending doom : Besides these, there were three 
 Young soldier-officers with their Colonel ; 
 And privates many, forced below as well.
 
 \H2 ZARA. CANTO IV 
 
 XIV. 
 
 The Stranger now complete possession had, 
 
 Of the doom'd Sphynx ; and when her flag he lower'd, 
 
 He scornful smiled ; yet e'en his smile was sad, 
 And full of bitterness, until his sword, — 
 
 Was buried in its folds ; then, — seemiiig glad, 
 With laughter wild he hurled it overboard : 
 
 His crew the cabins rifled and cargo ; 
 
 Willie some the hatch-ways guarded down below. 
 
 XV. 
 
 He panted hard for breath ; for well he fought, 
 Performing wonders with his nervous arm, 
 
 And limbs symmetrically knit and fraught, 
 
 With veins and sinews such that well might charm 
 
 Canova's eye, whose chisel ahnost wrought. 
 E'en mind to flash from marble to disarm. 
 
 The stoic of his icy shield in hue, — 
 
 E'en to confess his Venus was divine.
 
 CANTO IV. ZARA. 183 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Where Zara was he went ; he wore a brace 
 Of pistols in his girt, and in his hand 
 
 His sword he clasp'd ; he reached the gloomy place, 
 His fiery eye still flashing fierce command, 
 
 'Till meeting Zara's form and fair-side face. 
 
 He stood transfixed as 'twere a fairy's wand 
 • Had stricken him ; and leaning on his sword, 
 
 He gazed, as sadness o'er his pale brow lour'd. 
 
 xvn. 
 
 Her attitude of breathless sympathy, 
 Shed o'er her form a sanctuary shield. 
 
 As bending o'er the pale corpse pensively. 
 
 Her featiires from the Stranger's view concealed, 
 
 She seemed as motionless as Niobe, 
 
 Though not a tear escaped her as she kneel'd, 
 
 Her head reclining on her bosom where. 
 
 Her hands were clasped as one engaged in prayer.
 
 1S4 ZARA. CANTO IV. 
 
 XVHI. 
 
 His glare, basilisk glance, rov'd o'er and o'er 
 Fair Zaka's form, until her beauteous eyes 
 
 Were raised towards him, (as I said before,) 
 In Heaven's gentleness : then \N'ild surprise, 
 
 Or some new bane his burning bosom tore. 
 
 His \isage blanch'd, — his bosom swell'd witli sighs, 
 
 Big drops of perspu'ation dewed liis cheek — 
 
 And breathing hard, lie tried, in vain, to speak. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 The countenance of Hamlet when he first 
 Descries his father's spirit ; or of Lear, 
 
 WTien gazing as a lucid moment burst 
 
 Across his scorch'd brain, — on good Cordelia, 
 
 AVlio fondly tended him, tlunigh rashly cursed. 
 Were similar in trait — (save Hamlet's /cor) 
 
 1u Stranger's visage as he cried wildly — 
 
 " De Souza — haste! — By Heavens! — It is she!"
 
 CANTO IV. ZARA. 185 
 
 XX. 
 
 A tall swarth man black bearded to the nose, 
 And in his train a dozen dingy men, 
 
 Stood by the Stranger when fair Zara rose ; 
 The Stranger eyed De Souza, and he then, 
 
 In broken accents spoke, but Heaven knows 
 Fair Zara's feeKngs, or her mother's when, 
 
 They spoke of her ; it would be vain in me, 
 
 To attempt to pourtray their poignancy. 
 
 XXL 
 
 He grasp'd De Souza's arm : — " Mark you," said he, 
 " That young and lovely seraph standing there ? 
 
 Dost not remember I revealed to thee, 
 
 Wlien thou hast said my brow was dash'd with care, 
 
 A sylph-like form at midnight smiled on me, 
 When tossing restless, tortured with despair. 
 
 E'en sleep affrighted from my pillow flew. 
 
 And scorpion horrors darted stings anew ?
 
 18() ZARA. CANTO IV. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 " Do'st not remember, man ?" — and here his tone 
 Of voice unearthly ^vilcl resounded tliro', 
 
 The drearj' death-strewed deck, as a deep moan 
 Burst from his lips, and e'en De Souza drew 
 
 His breath in abject dread: — " Dost thou not own. 
 That what I tell thee now is strictly true ?" 
 
 ** Yes," — said De Souza roughly, " it is true :" 
 
 *' That form" — the Stranger said, " is — before you! 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 ** Her very hair — her brow — ^her eyes — her face, — 
 Her stature, dress, her heavenly figure, — 
 
 Her air — her features — all ! — in her I trace 
 The same seraphic form that used to hover, 
 
 O'er my drear pillow ; nor can I efface — 
 The adoration I then felt for her ; 
 
 There's something strange in this ! — 'Tis Fate's decree ; 
 
 Slie will, De Souza, save or ruin me !"
 
 CANTO IV. ZARA. 187 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Just at this time a piercing female cry, 
 
 Burst on the terror-stricken, list'ning clan ; 
 
 And swift as thought, the Stranger's searching eye. 
 Glanced on a giant limb'd and brawny man. 
 
 Who held witliin his grasp (sorry am I 
 
 To say) — fair Zara's maid ; — the rogue began, 
 
 A rather belligerent kind of theme ; 
 
 Which good Maria silenced, with a scream. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Nature has gifted — (for wise purposes — 
 Of course) — the lungs of ladies with a shi'ill 
 
 And piercing note wherever danger is, 
 
 Or threathens them, which makes our bosoms thrill 
 
 With tumults wild and rife with sympathies ; 
 'Tis their alarum-bell, they sound at will ; 
 
 Tho' circmnstances may arise, I deem, 
 
 The fair one's scream is other than it seem.
 
 ISS ZARA. CANTO IV. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Swift o'er the Stranger's gloomy visage spread, 
 A fierce reproving shade ; his dark eye threw 
 
 A glance, impressing all with abject dread. 
 As from his girt a pistol that he drew, 
 
 Was levell'd at the base intruder's head, 
 With steady arm and aim unerring true : 
 
 The bold intruder crouching, instant, low, 
 
 Averted by contrition, his death blow. 
 
 XXVll. 
 
 «• And is it thus !" — the Stranger fiercely cried, 
 " The strict injunctions which I gave to thee. 
 
 And to thy comrades that for me liave died, 
 Wlio living dared not e'er disobey me ? — 
 
 And durs't thou thus, my strict conunands deride, 
 Never to invade the sanctuary 
 
 Of women, or the wounded ? Hence ! — Away, — 
 
 For like offence thy life alone shall pay."
 
 CANTO IV. ZARA. 189 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 The feUow sneaked aside, extremely glad 
 No doubt, in having freely 'scaped with life, 
 
 And limbs unscathed ; tho' seeming just as sad, 
 As husband who with passions very rife. 
 
 Suspects he has been treated rather bad, 
 By young and shrewish uncomplacent vdfe ; 
 
 Who in return for dutiful devoirs, 
 
 Receives uncompromising cuffs, by scores. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 'Twas then the Stranger eagerly whispered, 
 De Souza's ear : his eye a meaning spoke. 
 
 As 'twere a threat of vengeance if he erred, 
 In some behest he chose not to revoke ; 
 
 De Souza bowed, and spake ; but was not heard. 
 But smiled as one who hears, or means, a joke; 
 
 What'ere was said, he instantly withdrew. 
 
 And all his clan from Stranger's side and view.
 
 UK) ZARA. 
 
 CANTO IV. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Zara was near her mother, plunged in grief, 
 
 And tortured with anxiety and dread ; 
 Slie trembled as a lilac's tender leaf. 
 
 At Boreas blast ere vernal tinge is fled, 
 Without a trace or glimpse of near relief: 
 
 She feared not war — its horrors — nor the dead, 
 But shrunk beneath the Stranger's basilical eye. 
 As bird neath serpent's gaze wdll twitter, droop and die. (2) 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 His pallid brow with gloom was deep depressed ; 
 
 There was a seeming sadness in his mien. 
 And measured step, that spoke the mind oppressed 
 
 With peace dispersed he never could regain ; 
 As if a nest of scoi-pions in his breast, 
 
 Incessant fretted him ; until his brain, 
 Had growTi the seat of sickening mental care, 
 Of joy bereav'd, and harrowing despair.
 
 CANTO IV. ZARA. 191 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 He now advanced to seize fair Zara's hand ; 
 
 She shrunk from him as if his daring touch, 
 Was veorse than mere pollution, tho' his bland. 
 
 And poHshed air and manner then were such. 
 Scarce any other lady could withstand ; 
 
 (For gentleness with ladies will do mucli ;) 
 But Zara stood aghast and terrified ; 
 Close clinging to her trembling mother's side. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 " Nay — fear me not — fair lady — fear not me ;" 
 He said, in tone subdued to gentleness, 
 
 Tho' full of deep and poignant melancholy ; 
 " You know me not ; nor little can you guess. 
 
 My state, my station, or my pedigree ; 
 I am not what I seem ; long weariness. 
 
 Of bitter woe hath shorn my youthful day 
 
 Of happiness, and pleasure's cheering ray.
 
 ]f);> Z AR A. CANTO TV 
 
 XXX [V. 
 
 " But, fear me not," — and tlien once more lie tried, 
 Her hand to seize, but was repulsed again, 
 
 By her \\'ild terror glance, that still defied 
 His daring offer, with a proud disdain ; 
 
 Her trembling mother pressed her to her side, 
 Encircling her spare waist, as one who fain 
 
 "Would shield her child from an assassin's knife, 
 
 And it defend at hazard of her life. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 " No more of this ! — I must — T will — have thee ! 
 
 Thrice has thy seraph form from demons' fire. 
 And fanofs of Furios seized and rescued me ; 
 
 Thrice has thy melody and seraph lyre, 
 Thrill'd my drear bosom with an ecstasy. 
 
 That guardian spirits only could inspire ; 
 'Twas but a dream 1 thought until in you, 
 My saving spirit burst again to view."
 
 CANTO IV. ZARA. 193 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 Again he tried her hand to grasp : poor child ! 
 
 It was in truth a fearful time for thee, 
 And worse for thy mother, whose wan and wild 
 
 Beseeching looks of speechless agony, 
 And hurried, terror-speaking glance of mild 
 
 Reproof, betrayed her love, as timidly 
 She stay'd the Stranger's arm : A piercing shriek 
 Burst from her lips altho' she did not speak. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 A sudden, glowing, but benignant smile, 
 
 Beam'd o'er fair Zara's face ; as one appeased. 
 
 By real or fancied safety to beguile, 
 
 Grim terror of the pang her bosom seized ; 
 
 Altho' 'twas difficult to reconcile. 
 
 Appearances with facts, yet she seemed pleased ; 
 
 But, for an instant : — when her eye revealed 
 
 Some dark determined deed, as yet concealed. 
 
 o
 
 194 ZARA. CANTO VI. 
 
 XXXVI n. 
 
 And so it was : to Heaven her eyes were cast ; 
 
 She solemn rose, as from bcneatli licr vest, 
 A poigiiard slie then drew, she firmly clasp'd, 
 
 And resolutely pointed at her breast ; 
 The Stranger startled back and stood aghast ; 
 
 And doubtless would have essayed to arrest, 
 Her deadly piu^ose, — had not then De Souza, 
 Rushed sudden from his liiding place behind her. 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 She was disarm'd ; her fortitude fled then ; 
 
 In short, she fainted ; senseless as the dead. 
 The Stranger bore her, followed by his men, 
 
 To the main deck : the news like lightning spread, 
 'Mong Sphynx's crew concealed ; while the drear den. 
 
 With female shrieks and wailings, resounded ; 
 In vain iier mother scream'd in accents wild, 
 '* O, sir ! — respect my poor — my only child."
 
 CANTO IV. ZARA. 195 
 
 XL. 
 
 Thus, screaming, she sunk down, ajiparently 
 Bereaved of life ; the stranger hm-rying bore, 
 
 His senseless burden with an ecstasy 
 Of wild delight, scarce ever seen before 
 
 To light his marble-brow of melancholy ; 
 
 But when he gain'd the deck, fierce Fury tore 
 
 His heaving bosom like a volcano. 
 
 And blanch'd his visage white as virgin snow. 
 
 XLI. 
 
 He stood, inanimate, as one struck dumb : 
 Amazed, he saw his men carousing o'er 
 
 A case of Hollands and a cask of rum ; 
 
 Some, brawling, 'mid the bacchanalian roar 
 
 Of hideous laughter — horrid oaths — and some 
 Bereaved of sense, lay down ; and three or four, 
 
 Cried out — " a health to Duroc, and success ! 
 
 Long life to him, and to his new mistress ! " 
 
 o 2
 
 lUG ZAIIA. CANTO IV. 
 
 XLTI. 
 
 Many, indeed the most of them had ta'en 
 Their swill, and lay on deck inanimate, 
 
 As 'twere they too were nunibcrcd with the slain ; 
 And those who still could speak, were so elate, 
 
 They could not from their wassails yet refrain, 
 But seem'd desirous at any rate 
 
 To carouse while they could ; till from below, 
 
 A sliout of strife arose, and battle woe. 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 Whether it was the fierce heart-rending shriek 
 That burst from Zara's mother, or the wail 
 
 Of soldiers' wives, — Maria's terror-screak, — 
 Or one or all that turn'd the battle-scale. 
 
 And roused the Sphynx's crew, reduced and weak, 
 Their fierce relentless victims to assail. 
 
 It matters not : with vengeful passions rife, 
 
 They rose upon them, fighting to the knife.
 
 CANTO IV. ZARA. 197 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 They simultaneous sallied, as it were 
 By preconcerted signal, from below. 
 
 As war-hounds fierce the flying game to tear ; 
 The conflict came, and blood anew did flow ; 
 
 And loud the mercy howHngs rent the air, 
 
 From pu'ate men, who met their mortal blow ; 
 
 The Colonel led his soldiers gallantly ; 
 
 The sailors headed were by young Wanley. 
 
 - XLV. 
 
 Onward they rush'd, now flush'd with victory ! 
 
 The panic stricken foe before them ran 
 To gain the deck, pursued by young Wanley, 
 
 With all his small but now elated clan ; 
 Many were cutlass'd ; some leap'd in the sea ; 
 
 The deck once more was shorn of a foe-man, 
 Except the Stranger, who abaft stood calm. 
 With senseless Zara clasp'd within his arm. 
 
 ift"
 
 198 ZARA. CANTO IV. 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 Short was the respite he received from men 
 Who thirsted for liis life with direst hate, 
 
 Wlio loiig'd to gloat their fury on liim then, 
 Their vensreance for defeat to satiate 
 
 With nothing less than mortal pcuig ; but when 
 They sudden closed on him to seal his fate, 
 
 And pistol muzzles threatened him, then he, 
 
 Before him Zara held, exultingly. 
 
 XLVIL 
 
 Plis visage now from passion was as free. 
 As though he felt no fear, nor knew a care ; 
 
 Unless the flashes momentarily 
 
 Fierce darting from the keen and hui'ried glare 
 
 Of Ills large dark and fiery eye might be, 
 Construed by some to indicate despair : 
 
 The form of still inanimate Zara, 
 
 Seem'd light in his arm, as a mere feather.
 
 CANTO IV. ZARA. 199 
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 As bear at bay he stood on the taffrail, 
 Confronted with a file of pointed steel, 
 
 And levell'd fire-arms, ready to assail 
 Whenever opportune ; but Zara's weal 
 
 And safety, then forbade : of no avail 
 
 Were foemen's menaces that he should feel 
 
 The " sting of instant death ;" he lowering, kneel'd. 
 
 Upholding Zara as a safety shield. 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 " Strike — dastards — strike ! or fire! if you dare- 
 Approach me not, too near," he scoffing said. 
 
 " That instant you molest, or harm a hair 
 Of my now fallen and degraded head, — 
 
 This girl shall fall a corpse, — and so beware ! 
 Upon your heads I hurl my fierce hatred ; 
 
 I scorn your nation — this I frankly own — 
 
 Nor care I for myself, but her alone."
 
 L>00 ZARA. CANTO IV. 
 
 L. 
 
 And, scowling fierce, he instantaneously. 
 As one who vainly strove to reconcile 
 
 The frown of Fortune with necessity, 
 
 Raised his fair burden with a haggard smile. 
 
 Expressive of contemptuous irony. 
 
 And dash'd into the sea 'mid fierce revile; 
 
 Relinquishing fail- Zara's fonn, who then 
 
 Was caught and cherish'd by the Sphynx's men. 
 
 LI. 
 
 And, as he fell, the shade of evening drew 
 Its misty cui-tain o'er the slumbering sea ; 
 
 The circumambient foam around him threw 
 Their mjTiads of phosphoric gems as he, 
 
 Made stoutly for his bark: the Sphynx's crew 
 Kept up a lively fire of musketry. 
 
 Without effect; (3) — he swam, \vith firm sinew, 
 
 'Till space and darkness veil'd him quite from view.
 
 CANTO IV. ZARA. 201 
 
 LII. 
 
 A gust of wind sprung vip, the waters rose, 
 
 And darkness reign'd ; — the moon was in her wane;- 
 
 The waves, portentous wore tlie swell and throes. 
 Precursors of a storm ; — a fall of rain 
 
 Patted the surface of the blue billows. 
 
 The wind fast freshning to a breeze again : 
 
 To the Black-Death all eyes were turn'd — but he 
 
 Had fill'd his sails, and stood away to lee. 
 
 LIIL 
 
 But Wanley said, (and likely he was right) 
 He heard the Stranger hail them, in a tone 
 
 Of fierce defiance, to resume the fight ; 
 
 But, 'mid the seamen's cheers, and the loud groan 
 
 From many a wounded man, and coming night, 
 His busy duties, and the shriU, screech moan 
 
 Of the set breeze, he was not sure : a soldier said 
 
 His hail was this:-— " Again you II meet Me Black-Death's 
 HEAD !"
 
 202 ZARA. CANTO iv, 
 
 LIV. 
 
 J.oud howTd tlic wind; the sea-waves, liissing rear'd, 
 Their foamy crests in fierce and raging way ; 
 
 Dark clouds o'erhmig the heavens that appear'd, 
 Black as chaotic darkness, save a ray 
 
 01" palish light, to lee, the vision clieer'd ; 
 But even it soon disappear 'd, and a 
 
 Loud screeching peal of thunder rent the air. 
 
 Terrific fierce, as flashed the lightning's glare. 
 
 LV. 
 
 Now tiUTi we for awhile to fair Zara : — 
 She still unconscious lay, as one who slept 
 
 Her final sleep, attended by her mother, 
 
 Who chafed her brow, as o'er her face she wept. 
 
 Till Zara's eye-lids open'd as from slumber : 
 
 Then from her heart to cheeks her blood fast crept, 
 
 As, rising languidly, a fond embrace, 
 
 Suflused with joy her ever-beauteous face.
 
 CANTO IV. ZARA. 203 
 
 LVI. 
 
 Still was there a strange wildness in her air ; 
 
 A hectic flush of crimson on her cheek ; 
 And through her eyes there flash'd a %ivid glare 
 
 Of terror, as if 'twere she fear'd to speak 
 In language other than her sighs ; her hair 
 
 Dishevell'd fell : at last, in voice yet weak. 
 She cried — " My mother! — and alive! — my mother!" 
 They both then wept, for joy, o'er each other. 
 
 LVII. 
 
 And long they thus embraced in ecstasy 
 Of bliss, too sweet to be conceivable ; 
 
 Unless by those whose hearts, as theirs were free. 
 From earthly dross, or ever loved so well ; 
 
 But mortal joys are apt, too soon, to flee ; 
 
 And grief and bliss by turns our bosoms swell : 
 
 The tears they shed, when stay'd, would flow again ; 
 
 But theirs were tears of pleasui-able pain.
 
 i204 ZARA. CANTO iv. 
 
 LVIIL 
 
 The " pleasure tear's," a genial offering, 
 
 From hearts o'erflowing with a mutual joy ; 
 
 The germ of iimocence ere youth takes wing. 
 And vernal sweets delight, A^thout alloy ; 
 
 Ere uiicorrupted years have known the sting, 
 Allied to care, when life and pleasures cloy ; 
 
 And their's the essence was, of, love, that springs- 
 
 From fer\'ent hearts, — " divested of his wings." 
 
 LIX. 
 
 The wind now fiercer blew and lashed the main, 
 Into a waste of foamy hissing brine ; — 
 
 Each wave high towering as a huge mountain: 
 Tlie darkness fled at last ; the night grew fine ; 
 
 The rain liad ceased ; the stars their light again 
 A lustre twinkled on the moon's decline ; 
 
 The clouds dispersed, yet threatening, swiftly flew. 
 
 In the scuds' wake, as shrieked the wild seamew.
 
 CANTO IV. ZARA. 205 
 
 LX. 
 
 At night the wounded men engrossed the care 
 Of all the crew who down below were ta'en ; 
 
 Among them Stanton lay, his bosom bare, 
 And pale and haggard 'neath a heap of slain ; 
 
 His wound a flesh one was, severe, and there 
 Arose a whisper that he ne'er again 
 
 Would tread the Sphynx's deck, or ever view 
 
 The light of day, which griev'd his faithful crew. 
 
 LXI. 
 
 'Twas well for him, the corpse that o'er him lay, 
 His woimd compressed, and stay'd the bleeding as 
 
 The purple gush was ebbing fast away; 
 It saved his life in fact ; and, as it was, 
 
 He rallied fast ; for, on the following day. 
 He took command despite of Boreas ; 
 
 Then " Captain" crown'd— a " Monarch" for awhile- 
 
 His step-stone. Bravery, and Fortune's smile.
 
 20() ZAllA. CANTO IV. 
 
 LXII. 
 
 The Sphynx heel'd to the stonn, and bore away 
 Beneath a lowered canvas : on she sped, 
 
 Swift o'er the foamy wave, 'mid many a 
 
 Howling squall, she all the night contended ; 
 
 Nor strain'd a spar or tie 'till break of day. 
 
 When damaged stays and shrouds were refitted : 
 
 Then for the Black Death sought they eagerly,- 
 
 And as a mere speck saw him far to lee. 
 
 LXIII. 
 
 The late Captain and the dead, were buried, 
 
 With decorous and due solemnity ; 
 That is, the service o'er them all was read ; 
 
 And they in hammocks sewed and ranged to lee, 
 With weights attached of gun-shot and of lead, 
 
 Were cast lamented in the briny sea, — (4) 
 Their mortal grave : — It was a sorry sight, 
 As howTd the wind, and closed the shade of night.
 
 CANTO IV. ZARA. 207 
 
 LXIV. 
 
 The soldiers' \\dves — poor souls — were sore depressed 
 With fear and grief; for loss of husband some, 
 
 And others from affright and want of rest ; 
 The crews' triumphant cheer was a welcome, 
 
 As sweet as ever soothed a terror breast ; 
 But words of solace, and a little rum, 
 
 With aqua puree sugar'd, rous'd anew 
 
 The languid smile, and cheer'd the Sphynx's crew. 
 
 LXV. 
 
 Then under close-reef d topsails on she flew. 
 Swift as a falcon, o'er the mountain wave ; 
 
 Now in the abyss of huge seas she threw 
 
 Her keel in air, (6) and pitched and momited brave, 
 
 The terrifying summit, where it blew, — 
 A deaf'ning blast : — Again, m the concave 
 
 Of mountain seas she siuik, again, to rise. 
 
 On fearful siunmit verging to the skies.
 
 208 Z A KA. CANTO IV. 
 
 LXVl. 
 
 The silver scud svv'ift darted through the sky. 
 As night its mantle o'er the ocean drew, 
 
 Obscuring from the watchful seaman's eye, 
 The twinkling stars at intervals from v-iew ; 
 
 The fii-e-gem'd foam to lee was seen to fly 
 In boiling flakes ; the wind terrific blew ; 
 
 'Till solar beams dispersed the mist of night ; 
 
 The Black Death then no longer was in sight. 
 
 LXVII. 
 
 And as the next eve closed, a gorgeous hue 
 Of gold and purple burst from farthest West, 
 
 Illumining the sky of spotless blue, 
 
 "With glorious images profusely dressed. 
 
 As Sol majestic disappeared from view. 
 
 Beneath the mountain-billow's rolling crest; 
 
 O ! 'twas a glorious sight ! — Pray go to sea — 
 
 If scenes comparative you wish to see.
 
 CANTO IV. ZARA. 209 
 
 LXVIIL 
 
 The moon was in her wane ; the stars alone, 
 On the wide ocean shed a silvery ray 
 
 Of hght, and they with vieing lustre shone, 
 Most mild and beautiful; — at dawn of day, 
 
 The wind from fierceness dwindled to a moan 
 Of gentleness, and died, at length, away ; 
 
 'Till mountain-seas their maiden aspect bore, 
 
 Serene and playful almost as before. 
 
 LXIX. 
 
 Then all the ports were hauld up fore and aft ; 
 
 The decks were wash'd, the sails to crouding set, 
 Were filled with balmy breeze ; — the sailors laugh'd 
 
 At dangers they had passed — (they soon forget 
 The battle and the storm ;) — but, as they quafF'd, 
 
 Their grog with glee, 'twas found they were not yet 
 From Fortune's malice free ; in fact, they were — 
 (As they too long had been) — short of water. 
 
 p
 
 210 Z A R A. CANTO IV. 
 
 LXX. 
 
 Tliey rnVfj^ht have had about (or little more), 
 Some three weeks allowance on board of her ; 
 
 But as they still were west of Afric's shore, 
 Close haul'd upon a steady south-wester, 
 
 With no near port nor bay at hand, they bore 
 Away direct for fam'd St. Helena ; 
 
 That gem of rocks ! the grave of One whose fame, 
 
 A marvel was on earth, — as his wild name. 
 
 LXXI. 
 
 They squared the yards, trimmed sails, and bore away 
 Before the zcphyi*, fair, and mildly bland ; 
 
 The past forgot, the crew were blithe and gay. 
 And danced at eve as play'd the Colonel's band ; 
 
 And thus they sail'd until the fourteenth day, 
 WHien from aloft a lad espied the land ; 
 
 A cheering sight! it lit the pleasure smile, 
 
 And banish'd widow's wailings, for a while.
 
 CANTO IV. ZARA. 211 
 
 LXXII. 
 
 And thou, my lovely Zara — even thou — 
 
 As, too, thy mother, twined around thy heart. 
 
 Fond as the ivy o'er the green shade bough, — 
 Hadst ceased to feel the sting of terror's dart. 
 
 Though pensiveness still hover'd o'er thy brow ; 
 Of that — no more, for you and I must part ; 
 
 The wind is fair — the land in view — farewell to thee ! 
 
 For ever or awhile, whiche'er the Fates decree. 
 
 LXXIII. 
 
 Wliate'er thy future destiny may be. 
 
 By fortune spoil'd, or harrow'd by despair, 
 
 Stung by the venom of adversity, — 
 
 Or sooth'd by love, or blighted by its care ; 
 
 Whether thy wayward stars award to thee. 
 The perils of the sea again to dare, — 
 
 Or if the Black-Death, or her captain's yell. 
 
 Again appal thee, time alone may tell. 
 
 p2
 
 0[2 ZARA. CANTO IV. 
 
 LXXIV. 
 
 Lovely and guileless, youthful as thou art, 
 Thy smile as cheering as the orient sun, 
 
 Within thy bosom bearing a fond heart. 
 As ever beat, or man's affections won, 
 
 Still 'tis imperative we now must part : 
 Thus far, the burden of my tale is done : 
 
 And f must say — " farewell," to my sweet flower. 
 
 And past companion of my evening hour. 
 
 LXXV. 
 
 Now off! my pilot poem, — soar in air ! 
 
 Mount! aerial Zara ! naught thy flight deters, 
 Except thy fancy flights, and some there are, 
 
 Which doubtless will be " wing'd" by Reviewers ; 
 My courteous readers ! I have taken care 
 
 To cater for you well (barring errors) ; 
 And should my maiden-poem please, we may 
 Again perchance meet at no distant day.
 
 CANTO IV. ZARA. 213 
 
 LXXVI. 
 
 I think I may say I have ta'en you thro', 
 
 Our interesting story with — eclat ; 
 The theme at least is altogether new ; 
 
 (I really think it will he popular) 
 My kindest friends ! — my purchasers, — thank you ! 
 
 And you, my very urbane Publisher ; 
 On authors all whose works are, — sure to sell, 
 Your smile is sweet beyond a parallel. 
 
 LXXVII. 
 
 In friendly terms I wish you all good bye. 
 As friends I trust we may yet meet again ; 
 
 (Of that the public will decide — not I) : 
 
 Strange things are yet untold, and I would fain 
 
 Resiune my story ere my ink is dry. 
 
 But health and spirits now are on the wane, 
 
 With me; — yet still my little book I feel, 
 
 A lively interest in thy future weal.
 
 j>14. ZAUA. t^ANTO IV. 
 
 LXXVIll. 
 
 Tliy course I'll watch believe me vdtli the eye, 
 Of a fond author's love ; whate'er thy fate, 
 
 Whether to live a glorious day— or die, 
 Unread — unsold— unknown, — or to create, 
 
 A " ver}^ great sensation," by and bye. 
 
 And to become a favourite with the great,— 
 
 Still art thou mine, fair Zaka! now, away: 
 
 Go, Lmin a name, and— brilliant be thy day.
 
 NOTES TO CANTO IV.
 
 I
 
 NOTES TO CANTO IV. 
 
 STANZA T. 
 
 (1) " There was a time the sober sage Hindus, 
 Were slaves to custom ; in the present age, 
 Old usages are going out of use. 
 
 And, e'en with them, reform is quite the rage." 
 
 It is pretty generally known (nor can the wider dissemi- 
 nation of tlie fact create any other feeling in the minds 
 of Englishmen than delight) that the Hindus are be- 
 coming more and more attached to our institutions ; that 
 the enlightened portion of them take pride in frequent- 
 ing our public and private assemblies ; and that many of 
 our domestic customs are imperceptibly, but surely, gaining 
 ground among them. Their fondness for European equi- 
 pages, and their surprising intelligence engaged, since the 
 introduction among them of native, and the increase of Eng- 
 lish newspapers, in scrutinizing into every thing European, 
 especially into every thing English, demonstrate the fact ; 
 and the ready (it may almost be said grateful) aid with 
 which the influential among them have promoted the greatest 
 and truest reform that ever blessed the regions of the East— 
 the abolition of suttee, entitles them (considering the preju- 
 dices under which they labour) to a degree of credit at least
 
 .'.'18 NOTES. CANTO IV. 
 
 (.■(jiial to that to whitli tliosc may lay claim who incurred the 
 responsibility antl risk oi" carryinj^' that <frcat and important 
 measure into execution. In short, the Hindus liave 
 changed in almost every respect, save in reli<;ion and in 
 dress ; and in those particulars, time or a miracle alone (in 
 the author's opinion at least) can perform a change. 
 
 STANZA XXX. 
 
 (2) " y-/.v hird 'neath serpent's gaze will twitter, droopy and die.'' 
 
 The opinion once generally received, and still current in 
 India, of birds being charmed by the eye of the serpent, and, 
 in consequence, falling into their fangs helpless and inani- 
 mate, is a superstitious opinion. Many, it is true, have 
 been the instances under the observation both of the author 
 and of his friends, in which the serj^ent, in an attitude simi- 
 lar to that which it assumes in a state of excitement, when 
 (l)re])aring, for instance, to spring at a man), having eyed a 
 bird, has been disturbed and driven away by passers-by, the 
 bird actually dropping dead from the tree ; it is, however, no 
 charm of the eye which produces this effect, but simply terror 
 in excess. The mere sight of a serpent of the larger species 
 might produce results equally fatal to creatures more coura- 
 geous than birds. The eye of the serpent possesses peculiar 
 brilliancy, and is remarkable for its beauty. In tlic Ivist 
 India Com])any's museum, and nearly facing the entrance- 
 door, there is (or was) a serpent twined roiuid a branch, 
 audits eye would conviy a lair idea of the power and beauty 
 of the animate organ.
 
 CANTO IV. NOTES. 219 
 
 STANZA LI. 
 
 (3) " The Sphynx's crew 
 
 Kept up a lively fire of musketry, 
 Without effect" 
 
 This is by no means a singular instance of a seaman dash- 
 ing into the wave from an enemy's ship, and escaping the 
 effects of the enemy's fire by diving and swimming, untU 
 he has reached his own vessel in safety. 
 
 STANZA LXIII. 
 
 (4) " And they in hammocks sewed, and ranged to lee. 
 With weights attached of gun-shot and of lead, 
 Were cast, lamented, in the briny sea — 
 Their mortal grave." 
 
 A sea burial is perhaps one of the most impressive scenes 
 which it is possible to conceive. The position of the corpse, 
 sewed in its hammock, to which weights are suspended, and 
 which is placed on a grating, with its attached cordage, at 
 the lee-gangway, ready to be cast into the sea at the ap- 
 pointed time ; the decorous demeanor of the assembled 
 crew, all uncovered ; the reading of the burial service — and 
 the impression conveyed to the mind by the words, " We 
 therefore commit his body to the deep," accompanied by the 
 instant plunge, cannot be easily eradicated from the memory 
 of the most careless observer.
 
 2tH) NOTES. CANTO. IV. 
 
 STANZA lA'V, 
 
 (5) " Now in the abyss of /ntf/e seas she threw 
 Her keel in air.'' 
 
 The imagery of this Stanza was presented to the mind oi' 
 tlie author by the recurrence to his recollection of a spec- 
 tacle of which he was an eye-witness when a boy. He was 
 on board an East Indiaman, homeward bound, in company 
 with the Scaleby Castle, Captain Ilarqpgton ; and when off 
 the Cape a storm arose, which endangered the safety of the 
 ships. In the midst of the storm the wind lulled, and a 
 fresh gale of equal fierceness arose from a quarter differing 
 but by a few points from that of tlie former gale. The 
 change soon caused a cross-sea of frightful magnitude, which 
 made the ships labour and pitch to a degree beyond concep- 
 tion. It may be deemed " prodigious " to the critics of the 
 shore, and even to some few old seamen it may be startling, 
 but it is a fact that the Scaleby Castle, a ship of 1,200 tons 
 burthen, and carrying from 1,600 to 1,800 tons, pitched Avith 
 a violence which, on her rise, caused her to rebound abso- 
 lutely out of the water /o?-e and aft, her keel being distinctly 
 seen by every one on board ship with the author, so that for 
 a second or two she was actually between heaven and earth. 
 This singular and fearful effect however occurred but once, 
 nor is any similar one likely to occur again. 
 
 I.ONDiiN; 
 IIAVI.IS .\Sn 1.EIOHTON, JoHNSON's COUitT, FLEET STREET.
 
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