THE ROBERT E. COWAN COLLECTION 
 
 I KKSKNTKD TO Till-: 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 r.v 
 
 C. P. HUNTINGTON 
 
 JUNE. : 
 
 ss ion No 70001 
 
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 Ci.J t^ 
 
BEN NEB-O ; 
 
 A PILGRI.MAGE IN THE SOUTH SEAS 
 
 IN THREE CANTOS. 
 
 BY H. A. STUART. 
 
 [CALIBAN.] 
 
 SAN FRANCISCO: 
 
 PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY WADE AND COMPANY, 4 I I CLAY ST. 
 1871. 
 
79A&.1.. 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, iu the year 1870, by II. A. STUART, in the 
 Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
 
OF THB 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 "THE THREE KINGS THESE! INFIXED AMID THE FLOOD." 
 
 Page 7; verse 1. 
 
 A few leagues beyond iho coast of the northern island of New Zealand, are 
 three stupendous rocks, rising like turrets, from the sea. They are visible at a 
 vast distance; and, seen under a tempestuous ^svmset, present a spectacle of 
 singular magnificence. 
 
 " TWAS DARING TASMAN AND HIS ROVING CREW 
 
 WHO FIRST THESE ISLANDS IN THEIR WANDERINGS FOUND." 
 
 Page 12; verse 3. 
 
 New Zealand was first discovered by Tasman in 1042, but he did not land. 
 The natives, however, came on board, and some intercourse took place, during 
 which seven of the Dutch who had gone ashore were cruelly slaughtered. The 
 great navigator Cook explored these regions in 1770, and discovered a strait which 
 divides the country into two large islands. The southern was called by the natives 
 Tavia Poenamoo, and the northern Eaheianowmawe, names which equal the 
 Russian in length, and which might well be contracted. The first is not less than 
 GOO B. miles in length, by 150 in medial breadth; and the second is little 
 inferior in size. 
 
 " THESE ISLES 
 ARE BY BOON NATURE WITH RICH GIFTS ENDOWED." 
 
 Page 12; verse 4. 
 
 The islands of New Zealand enjoy a temperate climate, similar to that of 
 France. The soil is exceedingly fertile, and is found to contain minerals, of which 
 gold is the most abundant. The natives were and in some parts are still canni 
 bals. They are of a brown complexion, little deeper than the Spanish, and many 
 are even fair. They equal the tallest Europeans in stature; and their features are 
 commonly regular and pleasing. It is singular to observe such a diversity be 
 tween them and the natives of Australia, when theory would expect to find them 
 the same race of men. So far as present discoveries extend, the natives of Aus 
 tralia and Papua seem to display an African origin; while most of the other 
 islands in the Pacific appear to have been peopled from Asia. 
 
"THIS MAORI DREAD WHERE MANY CHIEFS HAD DIED." 
 
 Page 13; verse 2. 
 
 A misprint: it should be Moral. The MORAIS am places of worship whore 
 the aged are frequently left to perish. They are usually lawns shaded by trees 
 esteemed sacred. Among these the crateva or purataruru, the terminalia glabi-a 
 or tara iri, and the dracena tcrminalis, are the principal. Caves are occasionally 
 used. 
 
 "IN GLEAMING JAD AND MARO WHITE ARRAY D." 
 
 Page 13; verse 3. 
 
 Jad a green stone wrought by the natives into ornaments and rude tools, with 
 the latter of which they are ingenioiis mechanics. Maro a narrow piece of coarse 
 cloth formed of flax, in the same manner as at Otahcite. It is passed between 
 the legs and fastened round the loins. In battle the men throw a kind of mats 
 over their shoulders; and this armor is neatly manufactured. On solemn occa 
 sions the chiefs wear dresses ingeniously composed of feathers. The women huve 
 only a slight wrapper; and the hair is cut short behind but turned up from their 
 forehead. The ears are ornamented with bits of jad or beads, the face being 
 often besmeared with a red paint, seemingly iron ochre mingled with grease. 
 The heroic actions of their sires are perpetuated in legend; the voice being ac 
 companied by a rude instrument, shapen like a lyre. 
 
 "AND FIXED FOR SEA THEIR LENGTHY BARGES LAY." 
 
 Page 15; verse 2. 
 
 The canoes of the New Zealanders are well built of planks, raised upon each 
 other, and fastened with strong withes. Some are fifty feet long, and so broad 
 as to be able to sail without an out-rigger, but the smaller sort commonly have 
 one, and they often fasten two together by rafters. The largo canoes will carry 
 thirty men or more; and have often a head ingeniously carved. 
 
 "THUS, WHEN IN DEATH A MAORI LIETH STARK." 
 
 Page 19: verse 1. 
 
 The New Zealanders inter their dead; they also believe that three days after 
 the interment the heart separates itself from the corpse, and, concealed in a 
 shell of bark, is carried to the clouds by an attendant spirit. A queer belief, 
 truly, yet not more preposterous than some of our more civilized imaginings. 
 
 "AND SUICIDE, THAT RATHER DOUBTFUL ACT." 
 
 Page 10: verse 3. 
 
 STiicide is very common among the Maoris, and this they often commit by 
 hanging themselves on the slightest occasions. A woman who has been punished 
 by her husband, will very likely put an end to further chastisements by the aid 
 of a halter. 
 
"HE ATE A WHOLE BOAT S CREW AND MADE A DEATHLESS FAME." 
 
 Page 21; verse 3. 
 
 The Now Zealanders, as beforo remarked, are cannibals, unless where Christiani 
 ty has exerted its civilizing influence. The bodies of their enemies, while yet warm, 
 are cut in pieces, broiled and devoured with peculiar satisfaction. I knew a 
 chief in Auckland, who vowed that he had assisted in devouring a party of Cook s 
 men, who were surprised near Adventure Bay. He dwelt on that feast with pro 
 found interest; for it seems " tarpaulins " are not bad eating; and a cabin-boy is 
 said to taste like young opossum. 
 
 "PRIME OVER ALL THE ARTOCARPUS REIGNS 
 MAJESTIC MONARCH OF THE TORRID ZONE." 
 
 Page 30; verse 3. 
 
 Of the plants peculiar to the tropical islands, the chief is the Artocarpus, 
 or bread fruit. This valuable tree rises to the hight of more than forty feet, with 
 a trunk the thickness of a man s body. Its fruit, which is about the size of a 
 twenty-four pound shot, when roasted is a most wholesome nourishment, and in 
 taste resembles new whoatrn bread. For eight successive months every year does 
 this tree continue to furnish fruit in such abundance that three of them are 
 sufficient for the support of one man: nor is this the whole of its value; the 
 inner bark is manufactured into cloth, the wood is excellent for the construction 
 of huts and canoes, the leaves serve instead of dishes, and of its milky gluti 
 nous juice a tenacious cement and bird-lime is prepared. 
 
 ERRATUM. Page 32; verse 2. For -enhance." read "enhance.." 
 
; Allah il Allah." 
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 PEOPLE in these times are not supposed to rank poetry 
 too highly; yet there are some who are not above verse, and 
 to these BEN NEBO is directed. Of the Poem itself I shall 
 say nothing: its conduct lies among the South Seas; and so 
 far as the description of the natives, islands, adventures, etc. 
 are concerned, is strictly correct all being drawn from personal 
 experience. 
 
 Ben Nebo is an imaginary name compounded for the 
 occasion. Nebo, as the intelligent reader is aware, is the name 
 of one of the summits of the mountains of Abarim, whence 
 the great Hebrew legislator was permitted to behold the Land 
 of Promise, before yielding up his spirit. I chose the name 
 because it struck me as unique and cuphonius: the prefix 
 "Ben" is simply an abbreviation of Benjamin a style I have 
 also adopted from mere novelty, and which is seen in other 
 names in the poem, thus: Ned Bastion, Dave Vangs, etc. I 
 trust no harm will come of this innovation, though perhaps 
 more toploftical titles might have a better effect in a rhyming 
 production; but if the characters are proper, who will quarrel 
 with patronymics? 
 
 Ben Nebo, himself, is a fanciful character, created for the 
 purpose of effect, and is supposed to be the super-cargo of 
 the trader. He may be a rather cynical and unamiable per 
 sonage; but for this I am not accountable; no author is res 
 ponsible for the vagaries of his creations. 
 
vii 
 
 This volume contains but a fragment of his adventures; 
 should it meet with favorable consideration I may follow it 
 with another. Its reception will decide whether I may venture 
 to remove the hero from the Pirate Isle, and, conducting him 
 through a series of events, restore him to his native land: 
 these three cantos are merely experimental. 
 
 As regards the manner of the verse, I have chosen that 
 of Spenser; because, of all other styles that I know of, it ad 
 mits of the greatest variation; and is, therefore, eminently adapted 
 to a subject like this, which is somewhat changeable and excur 
 sive. Should failure ensue, it must lie rather in the execution 
 than in the design, which has been sanctioned by many of 
 our greatest poets, among them Ariosto, Thomson, Beattie, and 
 the mightier endorsement of Byron. 
 
 The illustrations are photographed by Messrs. Flaglor and 
 Perkins from original designs made by the leading artists of 
 San Francisco: Fortunato Arriola, G. J. Denny, R. G. Ilold- 
 redge, Ed. Richardson, L. F. Ireland, Frederick Whymper, 
 John M. Tracy, Charles Rodgers, Eugene A. Poole and. Pascal 
 Loomis, are represented by characteristic drawings. 
 
 I have now done with Ben Nebo; and, while I feel a pang 
 at parting with so familiar an associate, I trust he may be 
 able to outlive the storms which frequently beset a new 
 navigator in the seas of literature. Allah il Allah. 
 
 S. 
 
DEDICATION. 
 
 THOMAS B. LEWIS, Esq., 
 
 DEAR SIR: 
 
 The following Poem being 
 
 finished and about to make an entrance into the world, I 
 know of no name among my circle of acquaintance so fitted 
 to honor its inscription-page as your own. Although selfish 
 reasons might bias many in selecting a name so extensively 
 and favorably known, yet I have other and nobler considera 
 tions in placing it at the head of this volume. Aside from 
 the promptings of friendship, your qualities as a man and a 
 citizen would suffice to claim a tribute like this; but over all 
 there rests a weightier consideration your generous but unobtru 
 sive patronage of art and literature. I question whether there 
 is a man in the State, who "in a silent way" has done more 
 to promote these two branches: I might give instances but 
 they are not necessary. 
 
 As a token of the esteem in which I hold those qualities, 
 I offer to your acceptance the following Poem; and with the 
 wish that it may receive your approbation, 
 I subscribe myself, 
 
 Your obliged and sincere friend, 
 
 H. A. STUART. 
 SAN FRANCISCO, Oct. 23, 1870. 
 
OF THP 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
5 
 
BEN N E B O ; 
 
 A PILGRIMAGE IN THE SOUTH SEAS,. 
 
 CANTO I . 
 
 RETIRED within this gloomy cave, that stands 
 All lonely on the sad, sea-beaten shore, 
 
 Tis mine to sing of Ascian s glowing lands 
 To plow again her sparkling waters o er, 
 And from Oblivion strange events restore. 
 
 And as the Genius of th eventful song 
 
 Exultant springs his mingled tones to pour, 
 
 Deep-hidden deeds in every whisper throng, 
 And chanting Pity weeps as roll the strains along. 
 
 The sun is red on Australs flashing main, 
 
 And fresh the wind that curls the rushing foam; 
 No more inert! Upheave the lengthened chain! 
 
 We must away o er distant seas to roam; 
 
 Self-exiled from our fair and much-loved home. 
 On deck Ben Nebo stood, and sadder grew 
 
 As darker evening s curtain gan to loam; 
 And oft he sighed, as o er the surges blue 
 The fond familiar land receded from his view. 
 
Now out upon the open sea we ride, 
 
 And to the pressing gale the vessel bends; 
 
 Her sturdy bows push headlong through the tide, 
 And far beyond her tapering shade extends, 
 As deep astern the lurid sun descends; 
 
 While round the mast the sea-gull circling flies, 
 And to the watch his dirgeful murmur sends, 
 
 Till his untiring wing sidelong he plies, 
 And melts in gloom as Eve forsakes the darkening skies. 
 
 Beyond the boiling wake, his eyes in vain 
 Ben Nebo cast to view the fading shore, 
 
 But shadows loom along the leaden main, 
 
 And doubtful outlines gloam the distance o er, 
 Where waves on waves in chilling fury roar. 
 
 His native land has melted from his sight, 
 But Recollection can its scenes restore; 
 
 Yet many a joyous image cheers the night, 
 And weeping sorrows rise like phantoms to affright. 
 
 "Adieu, fair land ! long years may first revolve 
 Ere I again thy vernal meads shall tread 
 The dreams of youth in frosty age dissolve, 
 
 And new born pleasures mingle with the dead, 
 As Time with chilly wind beats round my head; 
 Adieu, fair land! I love thee; yet twas thou 
 
 Gave me this being which I so much dread; 
 Twas thou sustained my infant steps, yet now 
 Self-exiled from thy shores, the wintry waves I plow. 
 
 "Yet why should I complain, since all are doomed 
 
 To various toil by ruthless Destiny ! 
 Some in the stifling cell, or mine, are tombed 
 Some rove neglected on the warring sea; 
 Yet every fate is such as it should be. 
 Man is but dust in Fate s almighty eye, 
 Though he may claim to immortality, 
 And deem he lives when dumb his ashes lie 
 And none have e er came back to tell him how to die. 
 
"Man is but dust upon the wheel of life 
 As it revolves so he must circle round ; 
 He who resists in the unequal strife 
 Is first into insensate powder ground, 
 While still unstopp d the tireless rim will bound. 
 Man s puny arm can naught of use avail, 
 
 To clamp the law that Fate approveth sound, 
 At best he can his helpless state bewail, 
 Or, if foolhardy, at its mighty author rail." 
 
 Thus mused Ben Nebo, as across the skies 
 
 He saw the stars their pathless courses thread 
 The wondrous planets from the east arise, 
 
 Or in the west their paling lustre shed ; 
 
 While like a fiery serpent, overhead 
 A mighty comet meets his wondering sight, 
 
 And fills the crew with superstitious dread; 
 Who in its vast array of ruddy light, 
 Behold some demon fell in flaming wrath bedight. 
 
 Majestic wanderer, wheeling through the gloom 
 With none to guide thee in thy wayward flight, 
 
 W T hat, as wind-fanned thy flames terrific loom, 
 Doth lead thee through the dark involving night, 
 Or steer thy bulk mongst countless spheres aright ? 
 
 In orb erratic doomed for aye to sweep, 
 
 And darkened nations with thy glance affright; 
 
 What fate is thine thus tireless on to leap, 
 And blast with quenchless fires the vast etherial deep? 
 
 In vain to ask : our thoughts to earth are prest, 
 
 Though some inspiring wish exalts the soul 
 To rise above the grosser sense, and quest 
 The mystic marvels that above us roll, 
 Or deeper seek the spirit s subtle goal; 
 But ah! such flights a sober mind denies, 
 
 Pleased with its little earthly-natured dole 
 Tis but the wandering thought that heavenward flies, 
 Or to pierce what is hid with pride presuming tries. 
 
Tis folly when the rigid will of Fate 
 
 Has closed the Future to our darkened gaze, 
 To press obtrusive at the folded gate, 
 
 And thread unasked the unfrequented maze ; 
 For, could we view its scenes, anguish might craze 
 Our souls ; or we might see in dark distress 
 
 No sign of bliss to cheer our ghostly days ; 
 If like the ox, man is no more nor less 
 Death snuffs the spark of life and all is nothingness. 
 
 But yet this cannot be ; there is within 
 
 This ashy casket something that will glow 
 When Earth has claimed her poor terrestrious kin, 
 
 And all that lived is laid forever low! 
 
 As dust no more of lingering grief to know, 
 A spark ignited at a deathless fire, 
 
 A soul immortal, yet alive to woe 
 And bliss, still having that which will inspire 
 It with transcendent light when all its dregs expire. 
 
 Tis this that lifts the man above the brute, 
 
 Exalts his mind, and .fires his soul with dreams 
 Bright and incarnate the appointed fruit 
 Of that celestial joy which ever teems 
 In a well ordered mind a mind that deems 
 Its great Creator the sole object worth 
 
 A life-long adoration ; such as streams 
 Spontaneous from the ruder tribes of earth 
 When in united strain they hail fair Nature s birth. 
 
 Sunk are the bulwarks of the winding lands 
 On every side the boundless sea extends; 
 
 Still like a statue fixed, Ben Nebo stands, 
 
 And to the reckless gales his anguish sends 
 That anguish which his manly bosom rends ; 
 
 For he was one whom Fate relentless casts 
 Upon a troubled surge ; nor joy descends 
 
 To shield him from the ever howling blasts 
 That shook his heart like winds a wreck s unsteady masts. 
 
"Roll on ye waves! ye loud-voiced breezes blow! 
 
 Your mournful sounds congenial strike my ear ; 
 Although there falls betimes a note of woe 
 A mystic sound as spirit-voices drear 
 That" wail of pleasures lost and sorrows near; 
 Still, still ! your gloomy diapasons roll, 
 
 And bear me onward as ye swift career ; 
 While in consonance with your cries, my soul 
 Shall mingling rise and sweep through Sorrow s pensive goal! 
 
 "Shades of the Past! why should your grisled forms 
 
 Eternal haunt my vain-averted sight? 
 More woful ye than ocean s windy storms, 
 Or shaft that thunders in the dreadful fight, 
 Or bolt that hurtles in the dead of night; 
 These though, too oft with wrath unseemly fraught 
 
 Smite at a blow, nor long the fated fright, 
 But ye with deathless pangs my soul hath taught 
 That of all barbs none vie with sorrow-haunting Thought. 
 
 " Here as I muse amid the whirlwind s wail, 
 
 The sea s deep sob, the mew s complaining cry, 
 My heart pours out her melancholy tale 
 Of buried joys that still uncovered lie, 
 Though darkly sealed from each obtrusive eye. 
 And what is life to him whose bosom owns 
 
 Such pangs as these that were not made to die? 
 In vain for respite he continual groans, 
 Or flies as from himself to earth s remotest zones." 
 
 But lo! the night is waning, and afar 
 
 Morn s early blush comes dappling o er the verge ; 
 Now paler-gleams each white, translucent star, 
 
 And fairer foams the onward-dashing surge ; 
 
 While from their watery beds, the gulls emerge, 
 And shivering sweep across the wide expanse. 
 
 Still on her course fair winds the vessel urge, 
 As hope beams forth in every wanderer s glance, 
 And high each bosom beats as round the waters dance. 
 
Fair was the voyage till on the hazy lee 
 
 The Maori shores loomed like a belt of blue, 
 
 When darkly o er the dim, north-western sea, 
 A murky cloud rose ominous to view, 
 And whistling winds in rising gamuts blew ; 
 
 Anon across the wild, upsurging tides 
 Storm-boding petrels in confusion flew ; 
 
 And the fleet porpoise o er the surges rides, 
 And far to calmer seas his shape unwieldy guides. 
 
 Firm at his post the sun-browned master stands, 
 Yet views with awe yon wind-announcing cloud ; 
 
 For on his lee appeared New Zealand s strands, 
 Half-hid in one long, dark incumbent shroud, 
 And far beyond with devious shoals endowed. 
 
 But still deep versant in the windy jar, 
 
 He stood alert, though hoarse the tempest soughed, 
 
 And huge o er many a circumjacent bar 
 The frothy breakers raged in mad vehement war. 
 
 He stood unmoved, and with experienced skill 
 
 Prepared his ship to meet the coming gale; 
 E en now resounding through the rigging, shrill 
 
 Tremendous straining on the belching sail; 
 
 While rushed the seas along the weather rail 
 Like hoary demons thirsting for their prey; 
 
 Though vainly yet they can her sides assail, 
 They rise to smite; she nimbly glides away, 
 And seems with those dread crests like a coquette to play. 
 
 Now grouped on deck, all hands in dumb suspense 
 Watch her bold course along the watery maze, 
 
 And as they look to windward, looming thence 
 Like some weird turrets through the drifting haze, 
 Three lonely islets strike their wond ring gaze; 
 
 Upon their towering cones the last red glare 
 Of dying Eve sheds a portentous blaze, 
 
 As if the torch of Hell had kindled there 
 A triple fire to lure sad wanderers to despair. 
 
The " Three Kings" these! infixed amid the flood, 
 
 Like sentries grim that watch the outmost shore 
 Of this rude land, where oft barbaric blood 
 
 Is made in sacrificial founts to pour; 
 
 When the fierce shock of direful battle o er, 
 The victors haste their captives to devour; 
 
 Like ogres foul, exulting lap the gore, 
 And deem the feast their gods appointed dower 
 Such is this race on whom a genius dark doth lower. 
 
 But who shall blame, since Naturfe s self doth urge 
 
 These savage people to such horrid deeds; 
 Tis her edicts that form as they diverge 
 
 Our various states, our actions, and our creeds; 
 
 And who can say her influence e er misleads? 
 To follow Nature, is but to obey 
 
 That potent voice which in each bosom pleads 
 Against all that our pleasure might bewray, 
 And seeks to guide us on the prime appointed way. 
 
 All men are vile! but Fate has favored some, 
 And raised them o er their less enlighten d kind; 
 
 Yet all from the same dusty substance come, 
 And all to equal follies are inclined, 
 And all at last a common rest must find; 
 
 Yet earth-born favors shed upon a few, 
 
 Affect them so, they fancy Heaven designed 
 
 Them as superior to the general crew, 
 When peradventure they more loathsome wiles pursue. 
 
 But hark ! the gale with added fury blows, 
 
 And wilder from their chains the waves are cast; 
 Still to the storm our ship her canvas shows, 
 
 Fearful to reef until to starboard past 
 
 Those three lone isles. Then from each shiv ring mast 
 The belching sails were shortened in amain; 
 
 Laborious task! to furl in such a blast,. 
 Or on the yard a footing to maintain 
 \Vhen deep the vessel heels as ne er to right again. 
 
And one there was among our trusty crew, 
 
 Who sought the lee yard arm a dangerous post 
 
 When winds like these so energetic blew. 
 
 He came from Candia, somewhere on the coast, 
 And in his youth, as he was wont to boast, 
 
 Had served in a smart Levantine polacca; 
 And oft among the Turks, his corsair host 
 
 Would single out some ship, board her and sack her, 
 And with unchristian gore her pitchy timbers lacker. 
 
 Antonio he was called; nor seaman s life 
 
 Than his career had e er so chequer d been; 
 
 With stirring acts each vivid page was rife, 
 Or tinged with hues of many a florid scene, 
 Such as invest youth s morn with dazzling sheen, 
 
 In manhood s prime again he swept the seas, 
 That stretch the weird Malaysian isles a-tween, 
 
 And oft as flashed his silver-glinting krees, 
 He gave his pirate banner to the piping breeze. 
 
 Twas said he loved; that disappointment fell, 
 
 With its enduring sting had smote his heart, 
 And made of life an ever-burning hell, 
 
 Till all of good expired beneath the smart, 
 And demons rose to play their horrid part. 
 He had the air of one subdued by grief 
 Of one who bore within a restless dart, 
 To whom no thing of earth could bring relief; 
 But in his lightest hours black Misery was chief. 
 
 But that was past; the blow had come and gone; 
 
 The wound was healed, though still the scar remained ; 
 And oft in merriest mood, some flash upon 
 
 His soul would burst and there awhile detained 
 
 \Vrithe with a woe intense, that lingering reigned 
 Like an unconquered sin; till Pride would bring 
 
 His iron will to bear; Peace then regained 
 Stood fast; while Memory s envenomed sting, 
 Couched in her lair, prepared to make her cat-like spring. 
 
\ 
 
Genius of ill ! that ruthless doth awake 
 The buried shadows of departed years, 
 
 And on our souls in mournful music break 
 The dirges of the dead; and bid our fears 
 Rise with the sound dissolved in kindred tears; 
 
 Alas! how few the joys thy pencil gilds; 
 
 How dark the scene that in thy lune appears! 
 
 When retrospection sweeps the vanished wilds 
 Her even backward srlance another ruin builds! 
 
 He who hath mused until his mind became 
 
 A boiling gulf of fierce tempestuous thought, 
 Where fiends disported and with tongues of flame 
 
 Up from the deep incessant horrors brought;. 
 
 Must by such woe such hellish sorrow taught 
 Have cursed the hour of his nativity, 
 
 And longed for respite respite even sought 
 In cold Occlusion s shadowy apathy; 
 For soul may keenly feel when pulse hath ceased to be. 
 
 And thus Antonio: by continuous woe 
 
 From cheerful man into a demon turned; 
 
 His sullen breast still owned the fatal blow- 
 Still for one shade his manly spirit burned, 
 One lovely shade in sweet devotion urned; 
 
 And his bronze cheek was plow d by furrow d care, 
 The signals of a love that ever yearned, 
 
 That ever felt its yearning empty air, 
 Till it recoiling sank a prey to grim Despair. 
 
 Withal he lived the wretched often live- 
 When happier beings find untimely tombs; 
 
 Each Fate their proper state doth rightly give 
 One suffers here one in immortal glooms 
 As good or ill their future being dooms, 
 
 So lived Antonio; till the awful roar 
 
 Of coming Death through his rude nature booms, 
 
 Calling his ghost to that mysterious shore, 
 Whence none who tread its maze can earth again explore. 
 
10 
 
 High swell the winds, as up the tapering stay 
 
 Antonio springs. Thence on the yard he goes, 
 O er which in cascades huge the surges play 
 
 And there the napping sail he snugly stows. 
 
 Whilst thus employ d, aloft the vessel rose 
 On a vast wave, then plunging lurched a-lee; 
 
 The quick convulsion down Antonio throws 
 From his loose hold into the whelming sea, 
 Gainst which he long did cope in mortal agony. 
 
 Hoarse o er the deck the dire alarum ran, 
 And far astern the rattling life-line sped 
 
 Uncoiled in vain; swift from the drowning man 
 The stooping ship in long-vibrations fled, 
 And wintry beat the wave on his devoted head. 
 
 He shouted; but his shrill, ear-piercing cries 
 
 Bay d but the winds and filled our hearts with dread 
 
 As fixed perforce we stood; whilst from our eyes 
 The bubbling drops showed how we mourned the sacrifice. 
 
 Twas done! The drama of his life was played; 
 
 The curtain fell and all of earth had past; 
 The closing debt of Nature had been paid; 
 The full account of his existence cast, 
 And the obstructed soul was free at last. 
 Nor should we mourn him, or at his swift fate 
 
 If sudden, not untimely stand aghast 
 Since once we all must pass the dreadful gate, 
 And to the crawling worm our temples dedicate. 
 
 White-starred Orion sinks beyond the deep, 
 And calmer now the dying whirlwinds beat; 
 
 The seas decreasing gradual sink to sleep, 
 And clouds disparting, still on pinions fleet 
 To leeward borne, career in wild retreat 
 
 Subsides the storm; the night revolving wanes. 
 And morn awakes our weary eyes to greet; 
 
 Then o er the void a calm unbroken reigns; 
 Three days the vessel hangs, nor breath of wind obtains. 
 
11 
 
 Three days wind-bound she burned beneath the sun 
 That cloudless shot its fiery-natured rays; 
 
 When, as the evening shades descended dun, 
 A languid breeze across the ocean plays 
 Its urging force the yielding ship obeys. 
 
 Then soon upon our beam a coast appear d, 
 
 Whose vernal heights awoke our loudest praise 
 
 \Vhilst Expectation, every bosom cheer d, 
 As tow rd the smiling shore our wonted course we veer d. 
 
 He who hath tost upon the restless seas 
 
 Whilst months unvaried rolled above his head 
 
 Dull months, surcharged with grim uncertainties, 
 And all the dangerous toils the deeps bestead 
 On such as may their treacherous mazes thread; 
 
 How hath he felt his pulse vibrate anew 
 When slow emerging from its watery bed 
 
 Thin as a vapor and as ether blue, 
 Some land s dim outline beamed auspicious to his view. 
 
 High beat our hearts as brighter morning grew, 
 
 And dim revealed, amid the purple haze 
 As silky mists aside their curtains drew 
 
 A lofty shore, to each expectant gaze. 
 
 A shore with beauty clad, that might amaze 
 The ardent Moslem, who in feverish dreams 
 
 Foresees that blissful land, where houries blaze, 
 Sweet gardens bloom, and by clear-tinkling streams, 
 The faithful gently rest while joy perpetual beams. 
 
 Such this fair land. Soon on the placid tide 
 Near quiet Auckland we at anchor swing; 
 
 Anon with rapid keel the wave divide, 
 
 As in the launch our sweeps resounding spring 
 To shoreward bent on subtle bartering. 
 
 The strand attained; out from the boat we leap 
 And join a troop of savages, who bring 
 
 Barbaric objects all cast in a heap, 
 Which like sly Jews they vow to barter very cheap. 
 
We met these natives several leagues north-west 
 Of Auckland; on a wide and barren shore 
 
 Where spiry fern-trees waved in wild unrest, 
 And rifted rocks with yellow lichens hoar 
 Strew d the sea s-margin in confusion o er. 
 
 Whilst far south-east, a lonely mountain rose, 
 Whose peak no foot had ventured to explore, 
 
 For thus the wise-men say the legend goes 
 That round its granite head a storm malignant blows. 
 
 Extending west two lofty peaks appear, 
 
 Once horrid in volcanic energy, 
 But now extinct; bold, rugged, bleak and sere, 
 
 They sullen stand in sad torpidity, 
 
 Whilst round their craters mingled hideously 
 Huge scoria-blocks oppress the rocky sides, 
 
 Huge lava-tracks still rug the blasted lea 
 Or from the ledge that land and sea divides 
 In shivering columns yawn above the chafing tides. 
 
 Twas daring Tasman and his roving crew 
 
 Who first these islands in their wanderings found; 
 When hither led in quest of countries new; 
 
 Then heard one night the rolling breakers sound, 
 The next at anchor lay in harbor-bound; 
 Upon thy cliffs Eaheianowmawe, first 
 
 His vision glanced; yet must his teeth have ground 
 When thee, or Tavia Poenamoo, he burst 
 From his torn jaws. Lud, how the Dutchman must have curst ! 
 
 But if infernal in their names, these isles 
 Are by boon Nature with rich gifts endow d 
 
 Such as few lands may boast. Yet vicious wiles 
 Their copper hosts in a dark mantle cloud. 
 A stalwart race are they, self-will d and proud, 
 
 Revengeful, fierce, and as a tiger cruel; 
 
 . Thus when a foe is caught th inhuman crowd 
 
 Consign him to a stack of blazing fuel; 
 Then eat him with the gust of Scotchmen eating gruel. 
 
13 
 
 Meanwhile as on the sandy beach we stood, 
 A runner from an ancient chieftain came 
 
 Desiring us to visit if we would 
 
 His kingly home, as helpless, old and lame 
 He lay bed-ridden living on the fame 
 
 Won when he joy d in manhood s vigorous prime. 
 Ere long we went for commerce was our aim 
 
 And led, began a mountain-side to climb. 
 Till reached a grot we saw a relic of old Time. 
 
 Dark was the grot, worn in a hollow crag 
 Impending from the mount s basaltic side. 
 
 Mete dwelling for some foul night-haunting hag; 
 Or yelling ghost, or evil thing to bide, 
 Or witch her spell to ply at eventide. 
 
 Blood-freezing, too, as Winter s frigid scowl, 
 
 This maori dread; where many chiefs had died; 
 
 And gave their flesh to the carnivorous fowl, 
 Which wheeling overhead in doleful flocks did howl. 
 
 We boldly prest into the gloomy grot, 
 
 And soon distinguish d through the twilight shade 
 A withered being on a leafy cot, 
 
 By a slow fire, almost untended laid. 
 
 But one, a dark and pleasant-featur d maid 
 Stood by the couch of her expiring sire; 
 
 In gleaming jad and maro white array d, 
 W T hile oft she smote a rude, canorous lyre 
 As if to soothe the soul so wrought with anguish dire. 
 
 But when the dusky maid ourselves beheld, 
 She ceas d to play and trembled in affright, 
 
 While frequent sobs in sad succession well d 
 From her lorn breast. Betimes a varying light 
 Glanc d from her eyes, dark as the noon of night. 
 
 She seemed so kind, so beautiful, so good, 
 That the most rugged softened at the sight; 
 
 And wrapt in wonder bold Ben Nebo stood, 
 While warm Desire aroused the current of his blood. 
 
14 
 
 Nor deem him weak within whose fiery veins 
 
 Love s gushing torrent rolls its molten stream, 
 Tis Nature s self, this wondrous law ordains, 
 
 And charms the sense with glowing thoughts, that seem 
 I kit the wild fancies of a heated dream. 
 Tis Nature s self that cheers this lower state 
 With Love s magnetic and exciting beam; 
 That man may feel and feeling recreate 
 In pleasures which the dreams of Heaven ante-date. 
 
 But if each breast in loving tumult heaved, 
 
 Still it was held within decorous bound, 
 For all were with the sad event aggrieved 
 
 And sorrow d for the maid in anguish drown d; 
 
 For men at times with humane hearts are found. 
 And gazing on the chief a deep-drawn sigh 
 
 Foretold th event. Mad-like he glared around, 
 In Death s rude grasp convuls d. Then glaz d his eye, 
 The dank sweat stood upon his brow he soon must die. 
 
 Ere long he went the ever solemn way 
 
 That all must pass who eat of mortal food; 
 
 And as inane upon the couch he lay, 
 
 His beauteous child with tears his brow bedew d, 
 And fragrant flowers upon his bosom strew d. 
 
 Anon with pliant hand her harp she strung, 
 And sang his praise in elegiac rude; 
 
 Sonorous forth her plaintive voice she flung, 
 And Echo shrill replied the answ ring woods among. 
 
 Ben Nebo heard enrapt those ditties wild, 
 As at the cavern s mouth he pensive stood 
 
 Gazing upon the maid, by love beguil d, 
 In feverish, dreamy and uncertain mood, 
 As passion kindled in his glowing blood. 
 
 Yet he was not of common dust; he dealt 
 Severely with the sports of Earth, pursued 
 
 By her poor parasites. Yet now he felt 
 Ignoble thought! his heart in soft affection melt. 
 
1.-) 
 
 Nor proof against his love-inciting glance 
 
 ^ Was she nymph of this rude volcanic glade; 
 
 Coy in her tearful eye a flash would dance 
 That could alight a hermit s bosom staid, 
 And oft had havoc of lorn striplings made. 
 
 Her gaze on Nebo fell, and added flame 
 On his awaking love was surely laid. 
 
 His whole frame kindled. He was not the same 
 Now as erstwhile unto this feted place he came. 
 
 Ere long a troop of Maori s thread the cave, 
 
 And bade the maiden hasten swift away; 
 For day hung trembling o er the western wave, 
 
 And fixed for sea their lengthy barges lay; 
 
 Obedient to their will she ceased to play, 
 And sobbing left the cell; whilst all our band 
 
 Departing, coursed the deep-descending way. 
 But yet afore we reached the open strand 
 Gray shadows stooped upon the circumambient land. 
 
 And when the sea s wide margin was attain d 
 When sooty Night her veil incumbent spread 
 
 On flood and fell, with keen emotion pain d, 
 We found that Nebo, who had walked ahead, 
 Had from the ranks most singularly fled. 
 
 The alarum given; at a halt we stood, 
 
 Unslung our firelocks, and, with stealthy tread 
 
 Through the dark glen our restless search pursued, 
 And oftentimes we paused and lustily hallooed. 
 
 In vain; but Echo, from her weird recess 
 
 Repeating, murmured to each wild halloo; 
 Till with misgivings none would fain express, 
 
 We stopp d awhile uncertain what to do; 
 
 When from a copse near by, a whistle blew, 
 And instantly a shower of arrows fell 
 
 Among our ranks. At once to arms we flew, 
 Pour d forth a volley, which produced a yell 
 From the swart wretches. Then, we turned and crost the dell. 
 
And on a ridge, like tigers held at bay, 
 
 We kept our station all that lingering night, 
 
 Unmoved till dawn; then formed in close array 
 We made a charge to terminate the fight 
 We charged, and put the savages to flight; 
 
 Then as we chased the panic-stricken men, 
 Our hearts no mercy knew; but grim delight 
 
 We felt, as furious through the rugged glen 
 We gave them rolls of shot until they howled again. 
 
 Still Nebo came not; nor a single trace 
 
 Of him, far as we sought was visible. 
 Sudden he disappear d, and at a place 
 
 Where woods of densest growth o er-hung the fell, 
 
 And splinter d chasms yawned all terrible 
 Here he was lost; tho through what cause, in vain 
 
 We strove to know. Still most believed the spell 
 That bore him hence, was that pernicious bane 
 Of weak-souled man a woman save this canting strain! 
 
 Is woman, then, a source of ill to man? 
 
 It cannot be! Twas Nature sent her here 
 His ills to soothe, but not his ire to fan; 
 
 To temper every blast that circles near; 
 
 To love and cheer him as a being dear. 
 For this she lives; and as your husband teaches, 
 
 Your matron follows up her part austere- 
 Hugs, cooks, doats, toils, and even neatly stitches 
 That most repulsive thing a pair of worn out breeches. 
 
 Is woman, then, the enemy of man? 
 
 She who will love him so that e en his pants- 
 Snip s curse upon them! pass beneath her scan, 
 
 And those sweet eyes that kindle at a glance 
 
 O er torn limb-covers sharply look askance. 
 Is she his foe? She who would do all this? 
 
 Hear Echo answer, no! What can enhance 
 Man s comfort more What so increase his bliss, 
 As a sweet woman who in nothing is remiss? 
 
w 
 
 A truce to preaching. As the sun declin d 
 
 We reached our boats and o er the chafing main 
 
 Swift-pulling sought the brig, aggrieved to find 
 No sign of our lost comrade; but again 
 Resolved to press no more the Maori plain, 
 
 Straitway uphove our chain; and smart the breeze 
 That filled our sails. Yet as we toiled amain, 
 
 A seaman, on the beach a figure sees; 
 And cries vociferous rise in sounding melodies. 
 
 Our task laborious for awhile we stay d; 
 
 Our glasses on the stranger bring to bear, 
 And gladly scan through the involving shade 
 
 Our bold Ben Nebo. Soon a lusty pair 
 
 Of oarsmen in the gig, no labor spare 
 To fetch the truant to his pitchy home. 
 
 Thence safe install d. he told with simple air 
 How he from the land-rovers came to roam; 
 But we ll be brief, for all he said would fill a tome. 
 
 The cause of his evanishment, was this: 
 
 That being caught in Love s pernicious snare, 
 
 He had determined though he went to Dis 
 To seize the dusky maid and perforce bear 
 Her to the brig. Yet ere the deed he dare 
 
 Attempt, a band of Maoris plac d amid 
 A thicket sent a shower of arrows fair 
 
 A-past his ears; but the thick darkness hid 
 Him from their aim. He fled; and where a pyramid 
 
 Of rock arose he made a warlike stand 
 
 Against the cruel hordes that battled round; 
 
 But when in pieces flew his shivered brand, 
 Death had indeed the misadventure crown d 
 Had he in timely flight no refuge found. 
 
 Thence safe he lay conceal d in forest close, 
 Whilst serpent-like his crafty foe-men wound 
 
 Through the dark wood. At length reliev d of foes, 
 He sallied from his lair and to the sea-shore goes. 
 
18 
 
 But though escap d with life, he was, in sooth, 
 
 A man of grief sad to the last degree 
 For hopeless Love frowned on his opening youth, 
 
 And every year increased his misery; 
 
 But still his cup full as it seem d to be, 
 Was yet to darken with a deadlier gall; 
 
 A wilder wave must rug his angry sea; 
 A dismal blast descend surpassing all 
 And gloomy Desolation on his bosom fall. 
 
 Avast! let Luna-smitten songsters sing 
 
 The pangs of hopeless Love in measured state! 
 We, who cold-blooded are in every thing 
 
 Are somewhat skeptic on that pensive fate 
 
 The ghostly vapor of a morbid pate. 
 If such there be as poets represent 
 
 Unhappy lovers forced to separate, 
 And moan through dreary years with sorrow shent, 
 Then by the gods tis well when they with earth are blent ! 
 
 Three weeks revolve: and now afloat again 
 We sweep excursive o er the lawless wave; 
 
 Nor aught of ill experience; nor restrain 
 
 Our course, till Farewell, from his briny grave 
 Cloud-capp d ascends. Then rude the tempests rave; 
 
 But nautic skill prevails their fury o er, 
 
 And smoother seas at length our channels lave; 
 
 North-curving now we seek the broken shore, 
 Press through the boisterous straits and see the Cape no more. 
 
 Chain-bound we swing. Ashore the seamen leap; 
 
 Engage in barter with a swarthy band, 
 Who had of native wares a motley heap, 
 
 Such as are wrought by many a skilful hand 
 
 By nature taught within this unknown land; 
 And they the people were a noble race 
 
 Few forms so perfect eye of limner scann d; 
 Yet quaint tattoo disfigured every face, 
 Where untam d Passion left its grim, repellent trace. 
 
10 
 
 Uncouth the manners of these vengeful tribes 
 
 As polar night their minds barbaric dark; 
 These briefly th untutored muse describes, 
 
 Or rather customs worthy of remark; 
 
 Thus, when in death a Maori lieth stark, 
 They think three days from thence, his heart away 
 
 Is borne, closed in a shell of kouri bark, 
 By a huge angel, swift to climes that lay 
 Beyond the molten disk, there as a soul to stay. 
 
 Here in the midst of pleasure, quite at ease 
 
 The hearty ghost maintains an envied state 
 Alone it lives. No other ghost can tease 
 
 Or maul, when once t has left its fleshy weight 
 
 Like an old chrysalis, to dessicate 
 On this dry earth. But in that blest abode 
 
 All sorts of pleasures tend to elevate; 
 Which to enjoy, should make a man unload 
 Life s mighty burden, and pursue so fair a road. 
 
 And suicide, that rather doubtful act 
 The stolid Maori deems a proper deed; 
 
 Nor on the couch of anguish long be rack d, 
 \Yhen from a scratch an artery can bleed, 
 And his good heart from every trouble freed, 
 
 Find sweet repose in its appointed Heaven; 
 
 But women most, who most may Heaven need, 
 
 Affect this sort of soul-exalting leaven; 
 And to one man self-slain of women there are seven. 
 
 For instance, tis a very common thing, 
 
 For maids to whom Love s favors come amiss, 
 To end their mishaps by a sliding string, 
 
 And slip their souls into eternal bliss 
 
 A most judicious policy is this. 
 Ay, even matrons who have wrought to passion 
 
 Their loving lords, and felt a cudgel kiss 
 Their shoulders, have eschewed another lashin , 
 By cutting their dear throats. A very worthy fashion. 
 
20 
 
 And quite worth copying by our Christian dames; 
 
 As then of nuptial ills there might be less, 
 And less of those debasing midnight games, 
 
 That sometimes Wedlock s votaries distress, 
 
 With pangs that celibates could ne er depress. 
 For if they used the Maori s hard decree 
 
 That wives when flogg d should turn to nothingness, 
 A horsewhip would set ill-match d couples free, 
 Silence their growls egad! and help morality. 
 
 But if from savage ethics we should scorn 
 To learn, let us the fierce barbarian view 
 
 With some attention, as of fable shorn 
 He stands in his primeval nature true, 
 Disclosing traits that moralists may rue. 
 
 How strange the phases of our mortal race! 
 How strong in all is evil shadow d through! 
 
 How hard to deem such grovelling things the place, 
 The shrine, of a pure flame that time cannot efface! 
 
 But who shall judge? Perhaps in the vilest, dwells 
 That which may live when planets have expired; 
 
 There is in man a monitor that tells 
 
 Of an immortal something; but enwired 
 In fleshly coils, that yield not as desired; 
 
 It lies in cryptic bars imbound, close pent 
 Like a caged eagle, whose spirit fired 
 
 With thoughts exultant as for Heaven meant 
 Shackled remains a soul with callow ashes blent. 
 
 Terrific thought! Is man a deathless thing? 
 
 Will he exist when known no longer here? 
 If so, tis well to give up vaporing 
 
 And trim the sails anew; nor more career 
 
 In those fell tracks through which so many steer. 
 Life s but a dream a little puppet show 
 
 Compared to what may be beyond the bier; 
 If all its years were prest into one woe, 
 They would not make the wise one joy of Heaven forego. 
 
What is this world; what are its trifling joys 
 To him who hears the last sad tocsin sound? 
 
 When all that s beautiful his fancy cloys, 
 
 And his wan sight, where er it glares around 
 Sees but a hollow in the yawning ground. 
 
 How vain, how pigmy, then all earth appears, 
 How dread the future deep in horrors drowned, 
 
 How much the soul the doubtful exit fears; 
 And anguish in each sigh foreboding Conscience hears. 
 
 Enough of this cant, theologic stuff- 
 Out on the man who would his betters teach! 
 
 He merits for his pains a sound rebuff; 
 
 For tis the height of impudence to preach, 
 Or with rude sense the chafing rabble teach. 
 
 The wisest mind will on itself revert, 
 
 And by experience warned, like flint, to each 
 
 Gregarian sentiment remain inert; 
 The dullest student thinks the wisest tutor pert. 
 
 Whilst thronged upon the shell-bespangled strand 
 Our men a commerce with the blacks essay d, 
 
 The chief Tom-a-tee-wa-kee, and a band 
 Of giant guards, a first appearance made, 
 Stalking in lordly pride the vernal glade. 
 
 A man of war this chief his endless name 
 Was syllabled afar. Twas grimly said 
 
 That when Tasman unto this island came, 
 He ate a w r hole boat s crew and made a deathless fame. 
 
 As on the beach he stood, his tawny hand 
 
 Vain-glorious swayed a stony-headed spear; 
 Two anklets wrought of jad his ankles spann d, 
 
 And coral drops hung pendant from each ear; 
 
 But what the timid most did strike with fear, 
 Were blood-red patches o er his features smear d, 
 
 So that he made a figure rather queer 
 To contemplate; but woe to such as sneer d, 
 Since in his own conceit, perfection he appeared. 
 
Nor on his face alone vermilion glowed, 
 
 Big rings of crimson bout his limbs were placed. 
 Whilst lurid moons in hideous glory showed 
 
 A wavering cluster round his naked waist, 
 
 By a light maro negligently braced. 
 A king he was: beneath a moa s plume 
 
 He stood like some old god in splendor graced, 
 Whose glance might penetrate the farthest gloom; 
 Bid Nature smile serene, or funeral garbs assume. 
 
 But most he gloried in an ornament 
 
 That kings had seldom worn upon their backs, 
 
 Save when upon the scaffold overbent; 
 It was but a ship-carpenter s broad-axe 
 Fit to fell spars or beat off deck attacks; 
 
 Which as a present came from Captain Cook, 
 Who sent it by a dozen well-armed jacks. 
 
 The shining pledge our chief delighted took 
 Then hung it from his neck to make him better look. 
 
 Meanwhile we traded; and like traders smart, 
 Extoll d our own and damn d the Maori wares; 
 
 In short, engaged in every trading art 
 
 To plant our coils or scape our neighbor s snares: 
 For he who in commercial matters spares, 
 
 Is a mere fool; since if our sight be true 
 Twould be as safe to thread brigandish lairs 
 
 With a fat wallet; as in business, to 
 Look for fair-dealing when so many like to jew. 
 
 When the Sinopean with his greasy link 
 Went barking out to seek an honest man, 
 
 He must have been a little daft, to think 
 
 That with a common flambeau, he could scan 
 That creature never known since time began. 
 
 Though often sought, remaining still unknown; 
 A phoenix in the great creative plan; 
 
 A priceless gift from human bosoms flown; 
 Enough to make a god though held itself alone. 
 
23 
 
 "An honest man s the noblest work of God": 
 
 So wrote that curt, incisive genius, Pope; 
 And, whilst accordant to its truth we nod, 
 The axiom cuts into the heart of Hope, 
 And Nature vainly emulates the trope. 
 Withal, the world survives the bitter loss. 
 Or, if it feel, can with its sorrow cope. 
 
 An honest man no doubt like gold in dross 
 
 Might with pure lustre shine; but who would bear his cross? 
 
 To be eccentric by the mob is deemed 
 
 A woful, or at least unseemly, sign; 
 An independent mind is ill esteemed, 
 
 By oafs who never trespass on the line 
 
 Which Fashion sets, her vassals to confine. 
 Hence woe to him who, in this piping age, 
 
 Would as an "honest man his course define 
 
 Right soon would he in Bedlam find a ca^e, 
 Or in inch peices rent attest the public rage. 
 
 Go to, thou preacher cease thy irksome strain! 
 
 These dull, long-winded dissertations fly: 
 Resume thy prime discourse, and tell again 
 
 How pass d events our hardy seamen by. 
 
 Soon as dusk Eve in shadows brooded nigh, 
 A maid appears! Fair is her blooming form, 
 
 And coy the glance of her expressive eye; 
 Long are her locks, and red her lips, and warm 
 Her winning smile twould take the coldest heart by storm. 
 
 Clad in such charms, no wonder if this maid 
 
 Were by our heroes very much admired; 
 For man is with such wanton thoughts inlaid 
 
 That by a simple look his blood is fired, 
 ^ A nd^ Reason sinks in sodden passion mired. 
 Pale Virtue, then, completely put to rout, 
 
 Retreats till Pleasure gains what Love desired; 
 ^ Which, after all, is hardly worth a flout 
 Venus insidious lures, then rudely turns you out. 
 
24 
 
 Pernicious goddess! sent to trouble man 
 With thy all-powerful all-alluring bane; 
 
 Chief of our ills, since mother Eve began 
 To long for that whose sad effect was Cam 
 Whose sad effect still haunts the human strain. 
 
 Nor with the heart alone thy mission ends; 
 But at thy mercy oft our purse is lam; 
 
 And when thy worshipper his cash expends, 
 Cast from thy arms to rot the hapless wretch descends. 
 
 As stood the maid within an easy ken, 
 
 Ned Bastion s eyes her buxom charms explore; 
 
 With heated blood he gazed, deep blushing, when 
 Her eyes gave forth their hot, electric store, 
 And conjured fancies full of love galore. 
 
 She too, obedient to a subtle power, 
 
 Felt weird sensations through her bosom pour; 
 
 And shivering at the lad s magnetic lower, 
 Shrunk like some tender plant that at the storm doth cower 
 
 Ned saw her tremor, and like a bold tar- 
 Never to war, or grog, or love averse- 
 Resolved to win the prize, should nothing mar 
 The course he laid. So first his beaded purse 
 He gave to smooth the way ne er a whit worse 
 For such fair grading. Then his wiles he plied, 
 
 Till close-besieged Love cried for quarter; terse 
 Was his answer. As fell the eventide, 
 Afar with glowing steps he bore the willing I 
 
 The bull-horn d moon above the woods arose, 
 
 Diffusing round a pale, mysterious light, 
 When from an arduous search, the sailors close, 
 
 And meditate on Bastion s sudden flight. 
 
 Some wished to seek him even thro the night, 
 But others on the project sternly frowned 
 
 And urged it best to wait till morn, when right 
 They could the wilds explore. Meanwhile profound 
 And dense confluent clouds the waning orb surround. 
 
25 
 
 While yet they stood in doubtful council bound, 
 Led by the mate, who acted as their chief, 
 
 A lengthen d yell burst from the woods around, 
 Grim-startling all. At once for fell relief 
 To arms they flew; and from a neighboring reef 
 
 Stood fast whilst arrows sped in whistling showers, 
 Sore-wounding several and one man, Tom Keef, 
 
 Death-laying on the rock. Fierce battle lowers, 
 Shots, yells, and imprecations fill the silvan bowers. 
 
 But such a stream of missiles on them rained, 
 That they at last were driven to the beach; 
 
 And leaping in their boats, awhile sustained 
 The brunt unflinching, pent within the reach 
 Of the barbaric darts. At length, when each 
 
 Had half-a-dozen hideous injuries got, 
 
 They desp rate grew, together made a breach, 
 
 And raked the foe with fusilades of shot, 
 Whilst heaps of swarthy dead begrimed th accursed spot. 
 
 Meanwhile they set the carpenter to work, 
 Who of some timbers built a sturdy screen; 
 
 Behind this all the crew did closely lurk, 
 And fire whene er the crafty foes were seen 
 To issue from their covert, and between 
 
 The arching trees discharge their weapons rude. 
 But though our men maintained a dauntless mien, 
 
 The Maoris were with such fierce rage endued. 
 That neither vantage gained in the protracted feud. 
 
 While yet the seamen held their wav ring state, 
 A sullen boom rolled o er the ruffled deep: 
 
 A signal from the ship, bidding the mate 
 
 And his bold comrades from the battle keep, 
 And swift unto the waiting vessel sweep. 
 
 They heed the summons: soon her pitchy walls 
 Receive them from the waves that warring leap. 
 
 The windlass arm; and as the tempest falls, 
 Heave round the rattling coils tim d by the clanging pauls. 
 
The moon recedes beyond the misty west 
 And all around but foaming billows play; 
 
 Swift wing the frigate-birds in wild unrest, 
 And shrieking the descending orbic bay, 
 Whilst fast the trader plows her onward way. 
 
 The land is gone, no more its rocky arms 
 A shelter lend, no more its shoals betray; 
 
 All, all have pass d, and sea-born storms and calms, 
 And terrors unexpress d here vent their dread alarms. 
 
 CANTO II . 
 
 Ye shrill sea-breezes that so plaintive sigh 
 O er the bleak bosom of the sleepless sea: 
 
 Sing as resounds your doleful lullaby, 
 Of such as exiled from the peaceful lea, 
 Feel thy sharp fangs in full severity; 
 
 In thunder tones, O ocean! roll along 
 
 The dark, dark woe of those whom Destiny 
 
 Dooms o er the lawless wave their course prolong- 
 Cserulean Neptune join, O join the mournful song! 
 
 As the free bird that cleaves the boundless air 
 With nought to interrupt her forward flight, 
 
 So once again the dashing sea we dare, 
 And fly exultant on the tempest s might, 
 While swift astern the billow flashes white; 
 
 And sweet the joy we feel, when piping loud 
 The wild wind whistles round the topmast light, 
 
 Strains the taut sail and murmurs thro the shroud, 
 Whilst on the good ship flies with vibrant force endowed. 
 
27 
 
 Lost was Ned Bastion. Oblivion drew 
 
 O er him a veil which none could penetrate; 
 
 Nor to be lifted, till with hand anew 
 Upon the tablets of omniscient Fate, 
 Should rise expos d each vague, mysterious trait. 
 
 So let him rest. Nor on his errors dwell; 
 Nor anxious on his doubtful end debate 
 
 Since tis the same, where er we cast the shell 
 When we shall cease to be, all equal slumber well. 
 
 Cook s fretful Straits have far to windward past, 
 
 And smiling skies inspire each hopeful breast; 
 The course for Santelmo is set; and fast 
 
 Before fresh aiding gales the trader prest; 
 
 And by no ill-presaging sign distrest, 
 The men rejoice. To merriment give rein; 
 
 Huge canteens flow rude music adds its zest; 
 They dance, they revel, and they sing amain; 
 And long as storms permit their jocund sports maintain. 
 
 Ah, could we thus with lithesome folly cheer 
 The cold dull round of this attritious life, 
 
 Less grim, less absolute, it might appear 
 Man less with upas attributes seem rife, 
 And to exist require less bitter strife. 
 
 But no! this is a dismal place of tears, 
 
 Where to each heart Destruction holds a knife: 
 
 He who with mirth his cup of sorrow cheers, 
 Like a mad clown among a troop of ghosts appears. 
 
 \Vho stranger is to woe? W 7 hose breast ne er felt 
 The arrowy thought of that terrific hour 
 
 W T hen flesh shall into mould ring ashes melt, 
 And all that lived, at Death s corrosive lower, 
 Yield all its beauty, all its pomp, and power. 
 
 Who hath not trembled at the very thought, 
 And felt the sweetest cup of pleasure sour, 
 
 That all he loved, lived for, and wrought, 
 Must feed the livid worm, and crumble into nought? 
 
28 
 
 111 boots it what our state, when earthward prone 
 We hear the clarion calling us to leave 
 
 This shallow world, and enter all alone 
 
 The mansions of the dead. How deep we grieve 
 To part, for on this little scene we weave 
 
 Those fragile woofs our wonder and delight 
 Alas! so often shining to deceive. 
 
 Poor timid things! We loathe so far a flight; 
 Fearful if lost the way we plunge in endless night. 
 
 What riseth dimly on the briny verge 
 
 With rugged peak ascending to the sky? 
 Tis fair Santelmo, centred on the surge, 
 Aloof from all the isles, that clust ring lie 
 Beneath Ascian s azure canopy. 
 Here like some goddess of the deep, she stands; 
 
 Whose strength alone the tempest can defy, 
 
 Nor Ocean heed, though harsh upon her sands 
 
 He leads with sullen rein his rude, impetuous bands. 
 
 As to our gaze the island plainer grew, 
 
 A hideous spectre caught each startled eye; 
 By whirlwinds urged across the deep, it blew 
 
 Till on our beam it foaming thundered by; 
 
 Alarmed we saw the watery spire draw nigh, 
 And steer almost athwart the traders course; 
 
 While round the billows heave, and upward fly, 
 Till one huge jet revolves with lightning force: 
 Loud howl the curling winds; seas raging bellow hoarse. 
 
 Our gunner comes: the starboard guns are primed, 
 
 Their muzzles on the watery column bear; 
 Quick as the vessel lurched by order timed 
 
 The linstocks on the nitrous priming flare; 
 
 One loud concussion rends the trembling air. 
 Re-echoing ocean murmurs to the roar 
 
 Deep as the lion thunders, when his lair 
 Invasive feels the foe. Down-crashing pour 
 The broken torrents vast; and lo! the peril s o er! 
 
29 
 
 The transient deluge past; our course again 
 
 For Santelmo s uprising shores we held; 
 When, as the glaring day began to wane, 
 
 O er a long shelf where high the breakers swell d; 
 
 Into a landlocked cove the brig impell d; 
 Here laid secure, we swing at anchor bound 
 
 Amid a scene whose weird enchantment spell d 
 Our souls as with a talisman; around 
 Romantic prospects rose with nemorous beauties crowned. 
 
 Soon as the crimson beams of daylight rose, 
 Away to land our men for water rowed; 
 
 Moor near a fount, whose crystal current flows 
 
 Low-bickering down a ledge. The casks they load, 
 And strong-lashed, in appointed order stowed. 
 
 This done, in dalliance for awhile on shore 
 They roam excursive. As along they strode, 
 
 With wistful eyes they scan the landscape o er, 
 And muse on scenes whose like none e er beheld before. 
 
 Scenes bright as visions of that beauteous home, 
 Islam s great Prophet promiseth the blest; 
 
 Led by sweet houries, ever pleased, they roam 
 Through fairy regions of enchanted rest, 
 Where suns are clear; fields alway vernal drest; 
 
 Woods thick with leaves; and flowery all the dales, 
 \Vhere brooklets wind; and o er the lakelet s breast 
 
 The sacred bird in tuneful joyance sails, 
 And beats with flapping wing the spicy-laden gales. 
 
 Here in this isle a dreamy beauty reigned; 
 
 Soft overhead the fleecy clouds appeared; 
 Harmonious warblers in the woods maintained 
 
 A joyous chorus that diffusive cheered 
 
 Our seamen wondering at the music weird. 
 Delicious languor, too, her elfin woof 
 
 Spread o er the lands. Romance each spot endear d; 
 Still unimprest by man s destructive hoof, 
 All-glorious Nature bloomed from human wiles aloof. 
 
30 
 
 Here the wild bee pursued its droning flight, 
 
 Industrious plunderer of the honeyed flowers; 
 And chiming through the long moon-shining night 
 
 Sad campanero tolled the waning hours; 
 
 Or, sealed amid the deep umbrageous bowers, 
 Her dual note the lonely cuckoo plays; 
 
 Whilst keen presagcr of approaching showers 
 The restless heron flutters through the maze, 
 Or, from some blasted tree th aerial tumult bays. 
 
 Eld trees arise: grim druids of the wood, 
 Long since beshorn of their prime loveliness, 
 
 Solemn they frown upon the solitude; 
 Whilst younger monarchs tenderly caress 
 Their gay companions, and with pomp impress 
 
 The neighboring scenery. Ten thousand dyes 
 Imprint the glebe; and in each green recess 
 
 Sun-colored fruits the dazzled eye surprise, 
 And the prospective still in varied beauty vies. 
 
 Prime over all the Artocarpus reigns 
 Majestic monarch of the torrid zone 
 
 From whose all-generous and prolific veins, 
 As winds among his topmost branches moan, 
 The goodly bread-fruit is spontaneous thrown. 
 
 Tree of the countless isles! Thou beauteous thing- 
 Thou life dispenser; what could e er atone 
 
 The loss of thee? whence blessings constant spring: 
 Nature s auspicious gift, Ascian muses sing! 
 
 Ascia s dusky race thy fruit maintains; 
 
 Thy bark a shelter offers from the heat; 
 From thy light wood the swift canoe obtains; 
 
 As plates thy leaves support the frugal treat; 
 
 And from thy pores glutinous juices sweet 
 Distilled, the pangs of fiery thirst abate; 
 
 Or lime exude to snare th ortolans feet; 
 No part of thee is waste. Benignant Fate, 
 Thee into being called sharp misery to rebate. 
 
Whilst gazing on the varied prospect round, 
 On a tall hummock the bold seamen stood, 
 
 And saw immured in shady groves profound, 
 A hamlet just obtruding through the wood- 
 Sole sign of man in this deep solitude. 
 
 Fired at the sight; all caution cast aside; 
 And vowed with many an exclamation rude, 
 
 That if the chief should not averse decide, 
 To reach the village ere descent of eventide. 
 
 Permission given, at once they haste away, 
 
 Led by the mate, and well supplied with arms; 
 When, just as shut the drooping lid of day, 
 
 Their van vociferous the watch alarms; 
 
 Men sought their spears, and maids conceal d their charms. 
 But mauger all; they m.arched into the town 
 
 A pretty place o ergrown by waving palms; 
 When soon they met a native with a crown; 
 He was a king they found else they had knocked him down. 
 
 Soon as he saw them, his sardonic mien 
 Vouchsafed to wrinkle with an ugly smile; 
 
 He turned and led them to an arbor green, 
 Where he was wont his liesure to beguile, 
 And toy with maidens loveliest of the isle; 
 
 Thence he produced a most substantial cheer; 
 Flesh, herbs and fruit, and fish aglow in oil; 
 
 And bade them eat, nor aught of evil fear; 
 For he by Nature was a generous cavalier. 
 
 Withal they longed for an inspiring taste 
 Of crystal whisky or brown-colored rum; 
 
 Either of which when ardently embraced, 
 Will act the part of a funereal drum, 
 And tap a man head-first to regions glum. 
 
 They had no grog. To ease this want severe, 
 Old cocoa-toddy served their wits to numb 
 
 And so twixt many an oath, and many a leer, 
 They swore their host was quite a royal grenadier. 
 
32 
 
 Nor stopt his bounty here. It farther spread, 
 
 And joys provided of a fairer kind; 
 His guests into a spacious hut he led, 
 
 And to each tar a buxom girl assigned, 
 
 In whom a Pasha might new pleasure find; 
 And when like doves the wanton throngs were paired; 
 
 He bade a fluter raise the sounding-wind, 
 Whereat each maid her agile figure bared, 
 And with our fervid men in mazy dancing shared. 
 
 Bismillah! twould astound a sultan s eyes 
 
 To see those dark girls in that amorous dance; 
 
 As each coy maid her toil enslaving plies, 
 Her lover s native ardor to enchance 
 And steep his soul in Passion s molten trance; 
 
 Whilst as she swept in graceful circles round, 
 Desires hot wishes flashed in every glance, 
 
 And firing at each warm, bewildering bound, 
 Longed in fruition s dreams to find those wishes crowned. 
 
 Out on the dance! it is the vilest thing 
 
 The cloven-footed genius ever brought 
 Into this world; virtue to loose, and fling 
 
 Light-headed souls, by rapid motion caught, 
 
 Into the gulf or better, into naught. 
 Out on the dance! Tis in the giddy reel 
 
 The plastic virgin Love s delights is taught; 
 When made the pressing hand betimes to feel, 
 Her bosom throbs with thoughts twere safer to conceal. 
 
 Forbear! These natives are a comely race 
 
 True sons of Anak, as their stature quite 
 O er-topt our tallest lad Alonzo Brace, 
 
 A Portuguese, above six feet in hight; 
 
 And all in strength display d enormous might. 
 Unclad the men; the younger women, though 
 
 Less careless, hide their graces from the sight 
 By flaxen aprons, yet contrive to show- 
 Enough of charms, whose like few pale-faced maidens know 
 
33 
 
 Both sexes use tattoo; dye their teeth black; 
 
 And every man has several lusty wives, 
 Whom he as serfs compels the grain to stack, 
 
 Hew wood, draw water, edge his flinty knives, 
 
 Rear children, cook, and first the honey d hives 
 Bare-faced attack. Whilst he as master oft 
 
 Loud-roaring to her task the woman drives; 
 Thus by hard usage she becomes quite soft, 
 And humbled never bears a haughty port aloft. 
 
 The native king was quite an ancient man, 
 
 \Vith power despotic vested in his will; 
 The isle was his; and since his reign began 
 
 He had contrived with very little skill. 
 
 One half of his unhappy race to kill. 
 But he was king; and kings, though Common dust, 
 
 Would lower be unless they loved to spill 
 Blood by the hogshead. However, Fate is just, 
 And kingly souls from Heaven may old Saint Peter thrust. 
 
 He had a daughter with great beauty rife- 
 No lovelier damsel e er was ushered in, 
 (To lead an easy sort of useless life) 
 
 In this round world of wretchedness and sin 
 Of doubtful virtue and distempered gin. 
 Lithe was her form in dusky charms array d, 
 ^ And fit her glance the coldest heart to win, 
 For Love s delicious wiles by Nature made, 
 She reigned the queen of hearts o er all this sea-girt glade. 
 
 But sealed within her breast there was a pang 
 That told of feverish wishes unsubdued 
 
 Of sleepless thoughts, whose adder-venomed fang 
 Wounds deepest in the hour of solitude, 
 Nor fails to lance in the convivial mood. 
 
 Soul-piercing dreams that fated mortals speed 
 
 To graves unripe. With such life s road is strewed; 
 
 Our steps along these hopeless ruins lead- 
 Ruins by sad affection ever doomed to bleed. 
 
O Love! what is thy genius, that thou must 
 
 With anguish wring the too-confiding heart? 
 Pursue with terror till he turn to dust 
 
 The hapless wretch destined to feel the dart; 
 
 Yet, yet delay the soul from flesh to part! 
 Thou fatal archer! Tyrant of our race, 
 
 Ordained to smite with never-healing smart, 
 And in our breast a beauteous image place, 
 Which if in youth s prime fixed no other can efface. 
 
 Supreme thy power; yet, but a sacred few 
 
 Feel its effect through long and ling ring years; 
 Whose souls are tempered in a furnace, true 
 
 Whose hearts are pure -whom misery bathes in tears. 
 
 These, these thy ruthless brand delighted sears; 
 These thy delight to fill with sharp unrest 
 
 Unrest increasing as the sand careers; 
 Till, last dread refuge of the grief opprest, 
 The gloomy grave extends its cold sequestered breast. 
 
 In vain earth s shallow joys to him atone 
 Who mourns the loss of a congenial love; 
 
 He in relentless pathos stands alone, 
 
 Like some lorn tree, that singled from the grove 
 Smote by th electric fury from above, 
 
 Changed by the shock, becomes a ruined spar. 
 All cheerful beauties from its nature drove, 
 
 Sad droops its rifted head, and every scar 
 Pernicious speaks its fate -and heralds it afar. 
 
 Enough, enough, forbear so dull a theme, 
 
 The dark chimera of disordered brains; 
 Tis sickly kinds that of affection dream; 
 
 Or think its bands composed of iron chains. 
 
 Love is but Passion, changing as the vanes 
 That restless wander to the veering winds; 
 
 A moment in one heart perchance remains 
 Then with frail bonds another victim binds; 
 Tis like true Virtue which no searcher ever finds. 
 
35 
 
 It chanced there was among the crew, a youth 
 Who from Tasmania as a sea-boy came; 
 
 His sire had been a ranger, and in sooth, 
 Upon a scaffold tumbled out in shame, 
 Leaving to prison writs a doubtful fame. 
 
 He was a Maltese Jack Ispara called 
 
 And like his honored sire was counted game; 
 
 At least his spirit never could be thralled: 
 He beat the boatswain thrice and once the skipper mauled, 
 
 Jack had a lion heart; yet he was famed 
 
 For his success in acts of gallantry; 
 Acts so profound, Don Juan would have shamed 
 
 Had he e er lived to hear their strategy, 
 
 Or to behold the youth s pomposity. 
 But let these pass; to prudes they might appear 
 
 As spiced with something of coarse ribaldry 
 And we are moral too; Jack it was queer- 
 Would charm the dullest girl by one good sidelong leer. 
 
 May the good Virgin save all virtuous maids 
 
 From such dread men and from their looks oblique 
 
 But most from their embrace, which so degrades 
 All that is lovely in the sex. so meek 
 The sex by vulgar error reckoned weak. 
 
 May all the angels- if indeed, there s any 
 Preserve their lower sisters, whery men seek 
 
 To blast their characters, of which there s many. 
 Nor deem a moral man no better than a zanv. 
 
 Jack saw the gentle maid: "Aha! " quoth he, 
 (As on her charms his eye admiring shone), 
 "This buxom maiden is a prize for me; 
 
 No arms but mine so fair a form shall own 
 
 My lips her cheek impress and mine alone," 
 
 He said: then sprang his amorous arts to wield 
 
 Sighed as he gazed and spoke in piteous tone, 
 When soon the god of hearts this truth reveal d: 
 That woman close-besieged must to the sieger yield. 
 
36 
 
 Love knit their hearts: he stoopt to Beauty s charms; 
 
 She blooming youth in modest zeal desir d; 
 Love s magnet lured to warm congenial arms, 
 
 And Hymen s torch voluptuous wishes fired 
 
 Such the keen joys affection fond inspir d. 
 Ispara, in the sweet enchantment hound, 
 
 With his beloved into the isle retired, 
 And wandering where no trace could e er be found, 
 In secret hid. Success their resolution crowned. 
 
 Our commerce ended: to the seas once more 
 
 We give our lives and our storm-beaten bark; 
 While sinks astern Santelmo s azure shore, 
 
 And rolling clouds arise in squadrons dark. 
 
 Winds still are mute; but lo! afar, we mark 
 A sable cloud upon the purple sky 
 
 Advancing towr d the vertic. And soon, hark! 
 That melancholy sough th presaging sigh 
 Of howling winds that rack the starless canopy. 
 
 Adieu ye scenes of sweet arcadian bliss, 
 
 That to our eyes your varied beauties spread; 
 
 How fair the contrast to a scene like this 
 Where jarring tempests rouse the watery bed 
 And beat inclement on the wanderer s head. 
 
 Hoarse-sounding from the hyperborean pole 
 The windy gods across the billows tread; 
 
 Jove s thund rin^ bolts along the concave roll, 
 And the terrific scene with horror fills the soul. 
 
 And fast before the wild, pursuing waves, 
 
 Like a winged thing the shivering vessel flew; 
 
 Whilst, as with force increased the tempest raves, 
 Green fear glowers on the pale, despairing crew, 
 Who sick at heart their doleful station rue. 
 
 But Fate at length, with milder aspect frowned; 
 Fixed to a point the hoarse tornado blew; 
 
 North- west-by-west we scoured the bleak profound; 
 Three weary weeks elapse and terrors still confound. 
 
37 
 
 Low did she stoop among those boiling seas, 
 Whilst every joint rang out its sad refrain, 
 
 As if with voice endowed, its miseries 
 
 To chant unto the rude, tumultuous main, 
 
 On which full many a heart had toiled in vain, 
 
 As roared the billows in malignant glee; 
 
 And many a tender heart had mused amain 
 
 When the shrill night-winds, driving o er the lea 
 Have piped around the home of him who plowed the sea, 
 
 At length the hlust ring winds began to lull 
 The seas to sleep the clouds to break away; 
 
 And the awaking sun, emerging full, 
 Gave cheering promise of a calmer day, 
 And roused our spirits with his smiling ray. 
 
 Again the long imprisoned sails are spread, 
 Whilst aiding gales in strains alluring play; 
 
 Nor more the wind-god s hellish wrath we dread; 
 Peace gilds the shining wave; the long, long storm has fled. 
 
 "A sail, a sail!" the watch sonorous cries, 
 
 And at the cry all hands expectant gaze; 
 "A sail, a sail," the master s voice replies, 
 
 As through his glass he sweeps the distant haze, 
 And with attention a dim speck surveys; 
 Soon round the deck the sad announcement goes, 
 
 And every face emotion dark betrays; 
 She is a proa fellest of the foes 
 Who in these lonely seas commercial barks oppose. 
 
 And now she squares the rising gale before, 
 ^ Fresh canvas spreads and for our vessel steers; 
 
 Whilst from each port the long resounding oar 
 Aglow with foam in serried file appears, 
 And cannon loom above in frowning tiers. 
 
 As the swift vulture on its quarry flies, 
 So to her prey the fierce Sumatran veers; 
 
 Till fancy seems to hear th exultant cries 
 That crown the triumph of her darkling enterprise. 
 
No season this for craven-like delay, 
 
 For fast the corsair draws within the range 
 
 Of her bow guns. At once to bear away 
 
 The orders given; anew our course we change, 
 And north-west scud for Fijiian waters strange. 
 
 Three hours we fly; when lo, a jet of smoke 
 
 Springs from the proa s head, and poor Will Stange, 
 
 Falls bleeding to the deck; his shoulder broke 
 By a huge splint rent from the counter s solid oak. 
 
 The fearful spectacle our vengeance woke, 
 And swift a-port the carronades we ran; 
 
 Then as the proa cleared her smoky cloak 
 We luffed, and sudden thro her teeming van 
 A broadside pour d. And now the fight began 
 
 In real earnest. Shots incessant stream; 
 
 Small arms resound; and louder o er the span 
 
 Great cannon roar; anon a piercing scream 
 Foretold some wretch had closed lifes miserable dream. 
 
 But fate is everything. A plunging shot 
 From out the proa s forward chaser sped; 
 
 It struck the mainmast; from the riven spot 
 A splinter issued; one sailor dead, 
 Another wounded on the deck it spread. 
 
 These to the sick-bay we at once convey d, 
 
 Clear d off the wreck, the mainmast s tottering head 
 
 With sturdy tackle in position stay d, 
 Then to the brunt of war like bold tarpaulins laid. 
 
 Unbent the contest till the veil of night 
 
 In deepest shade the grim combatants hid, 
 Then ceased contention; though the gory fight 
 
 Might yet begin when morning s waking lid, 
 
 Diffusing lustre, should the hostile bid 
 To arms. But as auspicious winds prevailed 
 
 And darkness favored, we resolved to rid 
 Ourselves of the Malay. Away we sailed, 
 And many leagues had crost ere Heaven s beacons paled. 
 
39 
 
 As sunk in light Bootes silvery car, 
 
 And from the vertic fled the Northern Wain, 
 
 We gazed across the heaving deep afar, 
 But saw no proa ply the chase amain 
 
 All-furious bent the battle to maintain; 
 
 Clear were the seas, far as we questioned, clear; 
 Pleased at the sight our courage we regain; 
 
 And urged tow rd Fijiian Isles three days career 
 When lo! what mystic coasts upon our lee appear! 
 
 His chart the master scans, but scans in vain, 
 . Whilst dark suspicions o er his senses creep; 
 No^isle here marks the hydrographic plane, 
 Unsounded billows here unbroken sweep- 
 Still as he looked upon the frowning steep, 
 In full relief against the azure thrown, 
 
 With quicker force his throbbing pulses leap, 
 And added lustre in his vision shone; 
 He first had found this land, unto the world unknown 
 
 He slyly laughed, and when his sextant showed 
 
 The true location of this nameless isle, 
 He almost seemed to feel Fame s crushing load 
 Upon his shoulders press, in such fine style 
 That he ranked far above the common hie. 
 tor he, like humans all, was soft on fame, 
 ^ And to be famous would as lief exile 
 The few poor virtues which adorn a name, 
 Or raise man o er the brute, by instinct much the same. 
 
 Oh for a voice like some gruff auctioneer 
 
 To curse the mischiefs that proceed from fame- 
 
 \\ hich like another Eve, has settled here 
 To spread ^a.wide the scathing blast of shame, 
 And Satan s larders fill with human game. 
 
 Of all the ills in life s portentous list, 
 
 Fame is the worst. She is an artful dame, 
 
 Who pouts her lips but rarely can be kiss d 
 And when within our grasp most suddenly is miss d 
 
40 
 
 She is a jilt the deuce to every heart, 
 A queen with every wicked fancy fraught; 
 
 Withal admired, and lured by every art; 
 Since few desire to be accounted nought, 
 Or die without one battle being fought; 
 
 For men are fond of rising like good leaven- 
 More bent on teaching than on being taught; 
 
 Still, where one floats, of sinker s there are seven; 
 And after all there s doubt if this ONE gets to Heaven. 
 
 And man s a pompous creature; like a crane, 
 
 Though placed on earth he lifts his head on high, 
 
 And often soars above his low domain, 
 As if his nature was to upward fly 
 And in remoteness dodge the sharpest eye. 
 
 Vain fool! however far he chance to soar, 
 His clumsy shape the dullest sight can spy, 
 
 And though gay plumes his carcass cover o er, 
 Tis but a man beneath a paltry man no more. 
 
 "Fame is a rose upon a dead man s breast "- 
 So saith the proverb but, my lad, belay; 
 This tiresome canting now should surely rest; 
 Preaching is folly when it fails to pay- 
 So quoth the canters" of the present day; 
 And taking their advice, our moral strain, 
 
 Like a coiled halser, shall in storage lay 
 Until the spirit moves us, when again 
 We may resume our theme and sermonize in vain. 
 
 Ben Nebo stood upon the deck, as Eve, 
 
 Deep-blushing, gleamed across the purple surge; 
 
 And pensive, saw the ruddy glimmer leave 
 
 The western skies, and glowering o er the verge 
 Slow-paced to Night s engulfing void emerge; 
 
 He heard the billow s sob, the mews shrill cry, 
 The fitful zephyrs melancholy dirge, 
 
 Till Thought awaking, with a deep-drawn sigh 
 Joined the sad chorus with her plaintive lullaby. 
 
41 
 
 What cometh from the gloomy realms of death, 
 With graceful step and form of fairest mold? 
 
 Whilst soft as summer winds expiring breath 
 As bells that tinkle from some distant fold, 
 Or music from some seraph harpist roll d, 
 
 Her voice melodious steals. Ben Nebo wakes, 
 And shudders at the beauteous phantom cold, 
 
 Whose glance the frozen seal of memory breaks, 
 And bids him breathe anew, while Hope expectant quakes. 
 
 "Ye moaning billows chant of Nora, dead 
 
 Nora who perished in the bloom of youth! 
 Ye sea-winds wail so fair a spirit fled! 
 Ye mermaids sing the desolating truth! 
 And you ye dolphins hoarsely groan in ruth 
 Of her whose exit all my being wrings 
 
 Discourse of Nora! Left forlorn, in sooth 
 No joy to me a gleam of pleasure brings, 
 But melting dirges Love in chime funereal rinsrs. 
 
 O* 
 
 "Her beauteous form is now insensate dust; 
 
 Long years of anguish prove her exit true; 
 And I have felt upon my heart the rust, 
 
 The blight, the canker, of a grief which few 
 Have felt tho lives of sorrow passing through. 
 And since the hour that gave her to the tomb. 
 
 This weary pilgrimage I ve learned to rue; 
 Yet Fate forbids an issuance from the gloom, 
 Till th appointed blow completes my ling ring doom. 
 
 "Fair Nora sleeps! her sweet voice now is mute, 
 
 No more its cadence can my senses please; 
 Her palsied hand no more awakes the lute, 
 No more her lips in ringing symphonies 
 Of Love sad Love resound the elegies. 
 Her woodland pets their darling mistress mourn, 
 
 But Time their grief oblivious shall appease, 
 Whilst I, less favored, wailing still forlorn, 
 Of hapless Nora chant, untimely from me torn. 
 
42 
 
 "For her no more the wreathy crown I twine 
 
 As when we roamed in days to memory dear; 
 For her no more enweave the fragrant vine, 
 Or lure the minnow from the streamlet clear. 
 Still, still of her I sing in strain austere, 
 As fits the dismal tenor of my soul; 
 
 And oft methinks her spirit hovers near; 
 Her elfin dirges with my meanings roll; 
 O beauteous shade awake and with my grief condole! 
 
 "I then might know what I shall never know, 
 
 A gleam of bliss these shadows to dispel, 
 And lifting up the weight of crushing woe, 
 Make life appear less a terrestrial hell, 
 Where Pleasures rarely flit where Sorrows dwell; 
 I then might be what I was in time past 
 
 A firm believer in the flimsy spell, 
 That man was in a sacred image cast 
 Which like all things of earth, experience proves avast"! 
 
 The loud-voiced boatswain cries, as crawling aft, 
 Some order to a forward tar he gave, 
 
 Who with a gang was taking in the gaft. 
 
 Soon as his tones rang o er the sounding wave, 
 Ben Nebo s plaints found a remorseless grave; 
 
 As up he sprang, shook off his dreams, and stood 
 Like one resolved such evil wraiths to brave, 
 
 Or crush at once the ghastly-natured brood, 
 That with relentless scowl accurst his solitude. 
 
 Shrill blew the winds and fast our keel impell d 
 
 Into a placid and majestic bay; 
 Green woods upon the heights adjacent swell d, 
 
 Where cawing birds in various plumage gay 
 
 Reshot the lustre of th meridian ray. 
 Far as the eye could range, new prospects rose; 
 
 Hills roll on hills and mountains Heay n survey; 
 Soft on the strand the deep meand ring flows, 
 And Nature s added charms a perfect scene compose. 
 
43 
 
 And here no sign of human life was seen; 
 
 No rural hamlet peeped between the wood, 
 No lonely hut appear d upon the green, 
 
 No vocal murmurs from the savage brood, 
 
 Broke the dead silence of the solitude. 
 Far as the vision swept twas barren all 
 
 A place where Nature reign d unrivall d rude, 
 Where Beauty made her gorgeous capital, 
 And the curs d foot of man \vas never heard to fall. 
 
 The sea, the sea! once more we plow the sea, 
 Loud pipe the winds that curl the onward wave; 
 
 The sea, the sea! its billows fierce and free 
 Are terrors to the dull luxurious slave, 
 Whose heart revolts when roaring breezes rave. 
 
 The sea, the sea! we love its rushing foam 
 And whistling gales and flowing canvas crave; 
 
 Let timid landsmen vaunt their anchor d home 
 Be ours the better fate the boundless seas to roam. 
 
 Such the glad thoughts that every bosom held 
 As o er the yesty surge we gaily sail d; 
 
 Yet oft Ben Ncbo s feverish soul rebell d 
 Oft his long exile from his land he wail d 
 Oft in deep grief relentless Fate assail d. 
 
 And thus one night, as thro the etherial blue, 
 The glistering signs his awe-struck sight regal d, 
 
 With restless step he paced the watches through, 
 And pensive dreamed as they on noiseless pinions flew. 
 
 And thus he mused: "Twas in the waning year 
 When sereing leaves presaged their coming doom; 
 
 W 7 hen wintry blasts deep-sounding blew severe 
 And crushed the flow ret in its tardy bloom, 
 That much-lov d Nora sank into the tomb. 
 
 I still can see that pale, angelic brow 
 That lovely face a paler hue assume; 
 
 Death s rugged coulter those sweet features plow 
 That dark eye dim all all appear before me now. 
 
44 
 
 "And thou art dead! say, shall I e er again 
 
 Behold thee as thou wert in hours before 
 The icy hand of Death had on thee lain? 
 
 I know not. Who can pierce the jealous door 
 That gainst us shuts the Future s mystic store? 
 I know not yet illusive wish would gild 
 The vision, and upon my senses pour 
 A train of thought with this dear fancy fill d; 
 But grisled doubt succeeds and frozen hope lies still d. 
 
 "And I have loved!" Aloud the steersman here 
 
 Broke in upon the muser s reverie: 
 Quoth he: "What light is that so red, yet clear, 
 Whose lustre radiates the western sea, 
 And tints the stooping vapors luridly?" 
 Ben Nebo gazed across the sullen gloom 
 
 To where a flickering glare upon the lee 
 Bespoke some ship a- fire. A hollow boom 
 Remurmuring o er the deep, confirmed the fancied doom. 
 
 "A ship on fire!" the up-roused seamen cry, 
 As curious to the leeward rail they run; 
 Anon to indicate assistance nigh 
 
 So wills the chief discharge a signal gun; 
 And scarce the simple task is fully done, 
 Ere from the light there comes another roar; 
 
 A minute gun we fire a second one 
 In hoarse reply. But as we heard no more, 
 Braced on the wind and tow rd the hapless vessel bore, 
 
 It was a grand a truly solemn sight 
 The burning of that ship upon the main; 
 
 Afar there shone a glare of ruddy light, 
 As if Avernus bursting through its chain 
 Had spill d its horrors on the watery plain; 
 
 But as we gazed the rueful scene upon, 
 A train of meteors lit the skies amain; 
 
 Flames, sparks, and smoke, commingled hurtling on, 
 Shook the dank void and glared a new Phelegethon. 
 
45 
 
 And then a sound like the last trumpet, loud, 
 Hoarse and terrific, roared along- the waste; 
 
 And high above a black revolving cloud 
 Through the abyss its nitrous volume trac d 
 Like some gigantic pall in ether plac d, 
 
 Then as the fiery ruins downward fell, 
 Diffusive, in effulgent armor cased; 
 
 The roar disparting died across the swell, 
 And silence over all resumed her torpid spell. 
 
 Twas done! the wreck in countless atoms torn, 
 Evanished from our deeply-wondering gaze; 
 
 So the ill-fated wretch by woes o er borne, 
 Ends at a stroke his sorrow-laden days, 
 And in one last overwhelming ruin lays. 
 
 Such is the stern, unswerving law of Fate 
 The smallest principle that law obeys; 
 
 Man least of all that edict can rebate, 
 It guides the very will that seeks oblivion s state. 
 
 Oblivion! what a mystic word is thine! 
 
 Thou opiate of all sublunary things; 
 Thy wraith in Death s twin-sister we divine 
 Congenial bairn of spirit-wounding stings, 
 ^ \Yhose poppy draught narcotic languor brings. 
 Grateful we sip; but ah! we wake again, 
 
 And shackless Thought like a hyena springs 
 Intent to rend. He clanks his riven chain; 
 Sharp-cutting, wounds our peace and riots in our pain. 
 
 Let such as in Voltarian dreams delight, 
 
 Draw solace from their cold philosophy; 
 Believe that Death is but enduring night, 
 
 That soul dissolves when sense hath ceas d to be 
 
 That life is but magnetic energy. 
 Let such believe believe thus if they can; 
 
 He must renounce such callow sophistry 
 Who taught the inmost shades of thought to scan, 
 Hath felt that subtle fire which shone ere earth beo-an. 
 
46 
 
 Can genius die? Go ask the glorious shades 
 
 Of the Immortals, who on Nature s page 
 Graved in a character that never fades 
 
 Their mighty glories to remotest age. 
 
 Can Manfred die or th Avonian sage 
 In stony crypt forever sleep unknown? 
 
 How vain to ask. Gainst these the cycles wage 
 Unequal war. Like gods they stand alone 
 Like gods they make a sure eternity their own. 
 
 What matter if the outer husk decay, 
 
 If the inherent germ existeth still; 
 Or, if the spirit of the germ shall stay 
 
 Forever quickened and forever thrill 
 
 Innumerous spirits to its sovereign will. 
 Such the grand fate of earth s illustrious men, 
 
 Whose god-like souls distill d such thoughts as fill 
 The eternal years, and with a molten pen 
 Imprest congenial minds until they glowed again. 
 
 What mote appeareth on the distant tide 
 As Dawn emerges from her rosy bed? 
 What mote that draws the lookout s glance aside, 
 As perched upon the foremast s dizzy head, 
 He quests to ken what ocean may bestead? 
 "A boat! a boat! he hails the watch on deck; 
 
 Soon thro the ship the news is trumpeted, 
 And the long glass is levell d on the speck: 
 It is, it is a boat a relic of the wreck! 
 
 Long was the tug across th opposing seas, 
 And slow that boat upon the vessel drew; 
 
 At length an end to all uncertainties 
 
 Appear d as Solus wheeled the vertic through, 
 When to our deck we hauled the wearied crew; 
 
 And when refreshing cheer their wants supplied, 
 They told their story one that all might rue 
 
 How took the ship a-fire and how they tried 
 To still the angry flames, whose rage their power defied. 
 
47 
 
 She was a Lusian ship from Lima, bound 
 For Lisbon, with a load of silver ore; 
 
 When three days out a fierce tornado frown d, 
 And forced to scud at its wild mercy, bore 
 South-west by-south for Pitcairn s lonely shore. 
 
 Amid the tempest in alarm they hear 
 
 The ship s on fire! At once the hold explore, 
 
 Where fangs of flame in hideous wrath appear 
 And aftward trend, seen first within the cable tier. 
 
 In vain they toiled to quench the raging fires, 
 
 That swept devouring through the crumbling shell; 
 The flames increase; soon wearied strength expires, 
 
 And Fate on every billow seems to swell. 
 
 Then mad for life unto the guns they fell, 
 And rolled afar their hoarse funereal notes, 
 
 Such as in minute guns alone may dwell; 
 Nor long these spoke. Replied our brazen throats; 
 Told of assistance near and urged to launch their boats. 
 
 But as the billows ran extremely high, 
 
 One boat was in the act of launching staved, 
 And eighteen souls with one united cry 
 
 Sank in the flood; but three its fury braved, 
 And nearly drown d were by the pinnace saved. 
 Just then her people heard our cannon sound, 
 
 And stood away for succor; but so raved 
 ^ The waters, that high noon was blazing round, 
 Ere on the trader s deck, a resting place they found. 
 
 And one there was among that fated train, 
 
 Whom Memory oft in hue primeval shows, 
 When dreaming o er those faded scenes, again 
 
 Some picture in vivific beauty glows; 
 
 Celestial thou destined to many woes, 
 Torn from thy love an exile on the deep; 
 
 Till kindly Fate resolved thy toils to close; 
 And where Papuan seas cerulean creep, 
 On couch of coral laid thy beauteous shell may sleep. 
 
48 
 
 Yet why recall a melancholy theme 
 
 Long since in dumb negation cast away? 
 Tis futile o er departed scenes to dream, 
 Or the sad past in pensive grief survey. 
 The present is not one unclouded day 
 But actual sorrows claim our constant care, 
 And various terrors line our devious way; 
 Ideal anguish fades dissolves to air, 
 Beside the darker shapes that haunt us everywhere. 
 
 Most sullen of the pangs that sully life 
 Grief gloomy hydra lurks in every heart; 
 
 Ceaseless until the soul-dissevering knife 
 
 Gives its last keen its last destructive smart 
 And bids the spirit from its temple start. 
 
 Man here was made to mourn tis Fate s decree 
 And he who suffers most can best depart, 
 
 Can best resign these scenes of misery, 
 Can best take the dread leap into eternity. 
 
 Yet life s a farce, though haply some may cry: 
 
 Life is no farce it is a tragedy, 
 Where each wan actor as he passeth by 
 Howls out a lengthen d note of misery, 
 And shivering dreads his frail mortality. 
 A farce hath merriment in life there s none; 
 
 Tis one long woe devoid of pleasantry 
 From man s first wail until his task be done 
 Tis one continual strife; best closed when first begun. 
 
 Still, life s a farce. Allow that there is ill 
 In many things that to this state befall; 
 
 Yet if gauged at their real worth, we will 
 Discover that the hugest of them all 
 Into the merest dwarfs of trouble fall. 
 
 Deaths, disappointments, pangs and penalties, 
 Are ills indeed but ills so very small 
 
 That it is strange they should disturb the ease 
 Of reasoning beings versed in stern philosophies. 
 
49 
 
 To thoughtful men existence is a farce 
 
 A play composed of hollow vagaries 
 In which the players all one censor pass, 
 
 And fly like chaff before the wintry breeze 
 
 Into Eternity s unfathomed seas. 
 All is unreal, heartless, and unsound 
 
 Virtue and man unyielding enemies; 
 The greatest ass is oft with honors crown d, 
 And plaudits greet the knave whose limbs no fetters bound. 
 
 CANTO III. 
 
 The toils of seamen, rulers of the waves, 
 Twice and again we celebrate in song; 
 
 Ye manly hearts! who, when hoarse Neptune raves 
 And Boreas howls, excursive scud along, 
 Proud of the blast as merciful as strong! 
 
 Sons of the surge! where er the whirlpools hiss 
 In storm-defying ships a fearless throng 
 
 On danger s edge you ride! What courage this? 
 What voice can sing your deeds, ye rovers of th abyss? 
 
 But lo! emergent from the gleaming deep 
 Serenely fair, in hues prismatic drest 
 
 Tahitian shores along the starboard creep. 
 Long-wished for haven of auspicious rest 
 A glistening gem on ocean s azure breast 
 
 Art thou, sweet isle. Hope skims the rolling tide 
 With joyful wing to seek thy woody nest, 
 
 And taste those joys already dim descried 
 Utopian joys, where every sense is gratified. 
 
50 
 
 But soon, alas! these dreams illusive flee, 
 
 And terror drapes th extended prospect round; 
 For now alarming signs that storms decree 
 
 Our anxious eyes with woeful glare astound; 
 
 Three mighty zones the sickly moon surround, 
 O er the North Star a blackening haze appears, 
 
 While oft across the heaven s dark profound, 
 A lurid spark in rapid flight careers; 
 Anon indignant Jove hurls his electric spears. 
 
 Swift, too, the silver in the glassy spire 
 
 Shrinks with the pressure of th airial weight; 
 
 Mysterious agent! fraught with seer-like fire 
 Ether s incessant change to ante-date, 
 And half the seaman s doubtful dread abate. 
 
 Still lower shrunk the boding mercury, 
 Breaking the spell of leisure enervate; 
 
 All hands are rous d all now alert must be, 
 For hark, the blust ring winds now curl the jarring sea! 
 
 North-east-by-east the blasts converging blew, 
 And fast the brig before their fury sped; 
 
 Till dark above the murky verge, anew 
 A mighty cliff uplifts its beetling head, 
 And o er the crew presaging terrors shed; 
 
 For futile now to clear the threat ning edge, 
 By naked masts whence every sail has lied; 
 
 Yet none despair; we may not round the ledge, 
 But on the beach escape the sea s engulfing dredge. 
 
 In this distress, while horror froze our blood, 
 
 Instant elapsed all thought of danger past; 
 For to each eye, above the angry flood, 
 
 Of every peril we beheld the last. 
 
 Already Fancy sees us shipwreck d, cast 
 Torn, dumb, and bleeding from the raging waves; 
 
 Or seaward urged, in hopeless fear aghast 
 Sank in the stifling surge to nameless graves, 
 Where the voracious newt his hideous banquet craves. 
 
Stars of the storm! twin brothers placed on high, 
 Who erst were saviors of storm-beaten crews, 
 
 Say, now, where is thy aid? Loud, loud we cry, 
 Bright pair! thy sea-composing bands to loose, 
 Nor more resistless winds awide diffuse. 
 
 In vain, in vain as merciless and bleak 
 As the hail-volley cold ye glint obtuse, 
 
 Whilst coastward drives the wreck; soon its huge beak 
 Grates on the snapping rock, and wild the drowning shriek. 
 
 The waves where er they list, the ruins urge 
 Fierce-crashing as they smite the flinty coast; 
 
 Amid them, drove before the howling surge, 
 Ben Nebo shoreward hastes. Of all the host 
 He and the mate but scaped th infernal ghost, 
 
 And shivering issued from the yawning seas; 
 
 The rest were lost; they and their floating boast 
 
 Found a release from all calamities, 
 And as a holocaust did Neptune s wrath appease. 
 
 Prone on the beach the dumb survivors lay, 
 Left as they fell by the retreating wave, 
 
 Till life relit its frail and fluttering ray 
 
 just glimmering on the margin of the grave, 
 And to their shells again the spirit gave. 
 
 Then Nebo rose; then next the hardy mate 
 Crept from the sea; and in a winding cave 
 
 That scoop d the toppling cliff, they weary sate, 
 And sullenly bewailed their sorrow-darken d state. 
 
 And there throughout the lingering night, they held 
 Their fearful vigils in that dismal cell; 
 
 Whilst ceaselessly without, the breakers swell d, 
 And in sonorous murmurs seemed to knell 
 A funeral chant above the dead, who fell 
 
 Untimely coffined in the bleak abyss; 
 Anon attentive Fancy in each swell 
 
 Caught whispers sad the requiems of bliss 
 Foretelling coming ills dark as the shade of Dis. 
 
52 
 
 But Morn s effulgent light their gloom dispels, 
 And wins them from their desolate abode; 
 
 Away they haste explore the bosky dells, 
 
 And tread the glebes with artocarpus strowed, 
 
 Or wind the slopes where brawling streamlets flowed. 
 
 All pleasure yield; prolific Nature here 
 
 Unequall d gifts dispensed, and radiant showed 
 
 Her loveliest phases through the changeless year; 
 Adoring bent our men, and soothed their grief austere. 
 
 Fatigued at length, within a cool retreat 
 They shelter seek from the meridian blaze; 
 
 A mango-wood repels the flaming heat, 
 
 And to each breath in rustling tremor plays, 
 Whilst beauteous prospects open to their gaze. 
 
 Here vernal glades in serried vistas lie; 
 
 There palm-trees nod; here tamarinds fleck the maze; 
 
 There monkeys mewl; here gaudy parrots cry; 
 There solemn woods appal; here meadows charm the eye. 
 
 While thus our heroes lay upon the ground, 
 
 Musing on what their wand ring sight could find, 
 
 They marked a chain of hills the vision bound, 
 And rise against the western sky, defined 
 With striking clearness. Thence their gaze assigned, 
 
 When lo! reared on an isolated cone 
 A warlike ruin stands, and to each rnind 
 
 Recalls those strongholds which by age o erthrown, 
 Still on Europa s lands like broken .gems are strown. 
 
 And much they pondered on that ruin eld, 
 
 And marveled by whose hands its walls were made; 
 
 Yet as they looked, Ben Nebo dazed, beheld 
 The mate s stem features wear a darker shade, 
 And nervous throes his stalwart form invade. 
 
 But these soon pass d; the ruling wish prevailed; 
 Both men no longer on the green-sward laid, 
 
 But rose; and by no vagueful terrors quailed, 
 They gained the hillock s brow and thence the fortress scaled. 
 
UBRA^- 
 
 OF THR 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
53 
 
 They knocked: unanswered were their sounding blows 
 Save by the echoes from the neighboring bights, 
 
 Or shriller cries of parrots, that uprose 
 
 From a thick copse. Again our hardy wights 
 Their summons beat; no sound; but wilder flights 
 
 Of the twice-startled birds. They knock no more; 
 Ben Nebo s eye upon a pass alights; 
 
 An olive s stem from its foundation tore, 
 Serves at a stroke to burst the age-decaying door. 
 
 It fell: they stood within a spacious hall, 
 
 With arms of every structure girt around; 
 Quaint armor rusted on the crumbling wall, 
 
 Or clasped in moss decayed upon the ground; 
 
 All they beheld in ruin lay imbound. 
 Here the last relics of a daring crew 
 
 In this lone cell a sepulcher had found, 
 Whilst those who erst their hardy usage knew, 
 Beneath the gelid wave might ocean s floor bestrew. 
 
 Now twilight on the varied landscape fell, 
 
 And glimmer d through the oriel of the tower, 
 
 Rousing the owlet from his mortised cell, 
 
 And the dim bat from sleep s occlusive power, 
 On prey intent to course the nightly hour. 
 
 And then Ben Nebo marked a darker change 
 
 Come o er the mate: his brows despondent lower, 
 
 And aspen-like he shook; convulsion strange 
 In one who lustily bestrode th uneven range. 
 
 Ben Nebo gazed upon the man askance, 
 
 And pondered on the grief his face betrayed; 
 Then gently asked its cause a frenzied glance 
 Shot from the mate s dark eye; he seem d afraid, 
 But curbed his fear and then to speak essayed: 
 "Last eve," quoth he, "as wandering by the shore 
 
 I pensive walked, there rose a hideous shade 
 From out the deep; and like a mist before 
 My awe-struck vision pass d; then lost twas seen no more. 
 
54 
 
 " Aghast I stood. But oft in years agone 
 
 Had I unblanched beheld this goblin rise; 
 But now its grisled terrors smite upon 
 My spirit with a frenzy, that defies 
 Mere human strength. E en now his awful size 
 Before me looms. Avaunt! But this despite, 
 
 Let me rehearse a tale that sleepless lies 
 In memory s urn. With gory ills bedight, 
 Long hath it groaned within Seclusion s shadowy night. 
 
 "This tower was once a famous pirate-haunt; 
 
 From here Bias Matsi issued for the main, 
 With his prize-loving lads, his flag to vaunt, 
 To chase, to pillage, and by arms obtain 
 From booty-laden ships the shining gain. 
 For years the tyrant of the flood confest, 
 
 No hostile cruisers could his course restrain; 
 Fearless he roved where er he cared to quest 
 A gallant chief was he pride of each corsair breast. 
 
 "Those were brave days: among his lusty crew 
 
 I then a youth was a fore-top-man found; 
 And divers brisk affairs passed boldly through 
 Had made my name above the rest renown d, 
 Whilst added wealth my rising prospects crown d. 
 But yet no dreams of mere preferment rose 
 
 With sordid pang my early bloom to wound; 
 I fought from instinct loved hardhanded blows 
 And felt upon the wave the equal of all foes. 
 
 "But Fate is stern: once off Gilolo s shore, 
 
 In a smooth sea and with a sinking wind, 
 A British cruiser down upon us bore, 
 
 And her broadside upon our quarter lined. 
 Our men to their appointed posts assigned 
 Stood to their arms, all resolute, prepared 
 
 To rake the Briton, till her lads should find 
 That rogues could do what rogues had ever dared, 
 And when their blood was up for man nor devil cared. 
 
55 
 
 "The battle opened; and a cannon shot 
 
 Dread-whistling bold Bias Matsi overthrew; 
 And prone he gasped upon the fatal spot 
 Where he had often taught the foe to rue 
 They e er assailed him and his daring crew; 
 But ah! his loss we vainly could repair; 
 
 In nautic skill in gunnery but few 
 His equals were; in danger first to dare; 
 He well could guide the bark and guard the secret lair. 
 
 "He fell; two rivals for his post arose: 
 
 Dave Vangs, a son of rude Northumbria s shore, 
 Whose cutlass foremost gleam d in battle s close, 
 Unwilling sheathed till hope of blood was o er; 
 Next to the chief a second rank he bore; 
 Yet as command the general voice conferr d, 
 
 So none by right of station ever wore 
 The chieftain s plume. To Vangs the most demurr d- 
 A flinty hearted man who mercy deemed absurd. 
 
 "His rival was myself. I simply placed 
 
 My cause in deeds and not in vainful boasts; 
 I, too, as oft the jaws of danger faced, 
 
 And burthened Stygia with untimely ghosts, 
 When foemen trespass d on our guarded coasts. 
 Our claims acknowledg d, lots by all were drawn, 
 And soon the issue reach d th assembled hosts; 
 Vangs, who ambition lured, had learned to fawn, 
 And gained by specious arts the men he held in scorn. 
 
 "He won; but still the action was opposed, 
 
 And discontent prevailed among the crew, 
 While those who hated him, together closed, 
 And swore that ere the waning moon was new 
 He should his transitory honor rue. 
 I counselled peace, and sought by every wile 
 
 To quench the murmurs that portentous grew; 
 But all in vain, for as we made the isle 
 We rose in arms and wrought in true seafaring style. 
 
56 
 
 "I can recall the deed, though years in flight 
 
 Have borne it to the cloudy past away; 
 Still now it rises in rekindled light 
 As plain as if it happed but yesterday. 
 For there are things that never can decay, 
 Though deep we hide them in negation s mine; 
 And when we deem they are unspeaking clay, 
 They wake and fright us with a voice malign, 
 And in their sinewy coils the stoutest heart entwine. 
 
 "As sunk the Pleiads in the leaden brine, 
 
 And winds blew light from Oyolava s land, 
 The signal rang; and bent on ill design 
 In grim array appeared th rebellious band. 
 To strife they fell; dealt with such lusty hand 
 That at their mercy soon the vessel laid; 
 
 But still unconquered Vangs applied his brand, 
 And on their ranks a dread impression made; 
 The bravest at his rage uncertain stood dismay d. 
 
 "At once the jarring rovers to compose, 
 
 And bring the Briton to an early peace, 
 I headlong pushed among the clenching foes, 
 And shouting, bade the work of carnage cease. 
 The combat lulled; and as by slow degrees 
 Order returned, I challenged Vangs to try 
 
 A single combat. Flash d like fire his krees, 
 And dark his scowl and fierce his angry eye; 
 Ere long we closed in wrath to conquer or to die. 
 
 "With cruel force my foeman plied his brand, 
 
 His blood was hot in ire; the fiery glow 
 Of his wild eyes gleam d wilder, as his hand 
 That oft had caused the gory streams to flow 
 Aimed to inflict a last a fatal blow. 
 In vain I sought to beat his strokes aside, 
 
 My arm was powerless gainst so dread a foe, 
 And when at length a desperate lunge I tried, 
 I caught his point and fell, bathed in a crimson tide. 
 
"My wound was sharp. All feeling fled before 
 
 The shock that paralyzed the vital stream; 
 And senseless to my berth the seamen bore 
 
 My blood-grim d form. There with uncertain gleam 
 Life s taper burned. At length the doubtful dream 
 Passed o er, and by degrees my strength renew d. 
 
 But fast in durance pent, no sunny beam 
 With genial warmth Nature s inspiring food 
 My energies awoke, by mingled ills subdued. 
 
 "Thus I remain d, whilst on our course we stood 
 
 Bound homeward to our long-forsaken isle 
 When one dark night, as in a dreary mood 
 I sought in sleep my anguish to beguile, 
 I heard o er-head, shouts, maledictions vile, 
 And Vangs deep voice o er all arising higher; 
 
 Intent I heard; and in a little while 
 The awful truth flashed on my senses dire; 
 Grim fear upon me seized -the vessel was on fire! 
 
 "In frantic rage my prison bars I beat, 
 
 For now the boats were filling with the crew; 
 Each moment too, increased the scorching heat, 
 As more abaft the flames devouring flew; 
 And then I gazed my cabin window through, 
 And felt augmented horror o er me creep, 
 
 As swift the boats receded from my view 
 
 Across the smooth and molten-bosomed deep; 
 
 Anon for help implored or hopeless sank to weep. 
 
 "But sudden on my ear there fell a sound 
 Of oars, and gazing o er the lurid tide, 
 Amid the pitchy smoke that drifted round, 
 A boat with one lone oarsman I descried; 
 Hope flashed anew. My voice for aid I plied; 
 He heard he paused then swiftly row d away. 
 
 I thought him gone; but soon the door awide 
 Was thrown, and ere I could delight betray, 
 Dave Vangs himself appeared my terror to allay. 
 
58 
 
 "Forth through the suffocating heat he led 
 
 Me to the pinnace, and when set within, 
 
 With nervous strokes across the deep we sped; 
 
 For ever and anon with sounding din 
 
 Shot from the heated guns began to spin 
 
 Above our heads. Beyond this cannonade 
 
 We paused to watch the fiery demon win 
 Its rapid way. Ere long the flames invade 
 The powder store; and lo! in ruin all is laid! 
 
 "We suffered much; but as the wind was fair, 
 
 Held the light skiff before the veering foam. 
 Three days elapse; when, through the ambient air, 
 Like a blue vapor, loom d our islet-home; 
 And just as Twilight s glimmer gan to gloam, 
 Shot o er the bar and moored upon the strand, 
 Thankful for life resolved no more to roam 
 From the safe-circuit of the genial land; 
 Thus musing hied away and pleased each object scann d. 
 
 "With weary feet we sought this lonely tower, 
 
 Where fixed remained a section of our band 
 To guard the spoil, lest in an evil hour 
 
 Invasive keels should pass the circling sand, 
 And fell possession of the isle demand. 
 To these lorn comrades we rehearsed our tale 
 So sad but few its influence could withstand 
 And mingled with the dull vibrating gale 
 Was manhood s broken groan and woman s plaintive wail, 
 
 "But who with heart a-breaking, most bewailed 
 
 The missing brave, who most in pity sighed, 
 Like thee, Timandra! Thou whose glance assailed 
 My inmost soul, that conscious vainly tried 
 To turn the woe-presaging shaft aside. 
 Thou fair Timandra, how I worshipped thee! 
 
 How for thee suffered, since my hand was dyed 
 With that red stain which blots whate er I see, 
 And conjures goblins foul that rack me hideously! 
 
"Ah, well I loved thee! For thee I yearned 
 
 With an intensity, hot as the rays 
 Of Barca s sun! Ay, loved when passion spurned, 
 Merged into one fierce bolt one hellish blaze 
 That still within my scorching bosom plays! 
 But why arouse the dead? Why from their tomb 
 
 The spectres of a grisled past upraise ? 
 What though Vangs won thee? In nocturnal gloom 
 Deep in yon stagnant pool he met a murderous doom ! 
 
 "I slew him; and his gurgling sobs, as crept 
 The whelming eddies o er his gelid mold, 
 Into my ears like stygian peans leapt. 
 
 Fierce was my joy; and short as fierce, there roll d 
 Amid those strains a subtler note that told 
 Of peace departed. From that hour I bore 
 
 The mark of Cain, that where, or sea or wold 
 I chanced a fugitive to wander o er, 
 Confest my crime that crime that steept my soul in gore. 
 
 "It matters not to tell how I escaped 
 
 From this curst isle the region of that crime; 
 Or how through weary years my course 1 shaped, 
 Until besprinkled with the frosts of time, 
 A hopeless man, I sought this lonely clime. 
 Twas tenantless. Amazed I groped around, 
 
 And near yon palms that to the sea-winds chime, 
 I, choked with grief, espied a grassy mound 
 Marked by a wooden cross with clustering blossoms crowned. 
 
 "Timandra s grave! Amid the clasping turf 
 
 She sleeps in trance unbroken sleeps though shrill 
 The keen winds whistle and the rumbling surf 
 Sonorous thunders; or from yonder hill 
 The cowering birds with cries the concave fill. 
 She sleeps! With her my fondest hopes are laid, 
 
 With her shall they remain, entombed, until 
 Th imperious voice of Fate shall bid my shade 
 Launch from its ashy coil and ghostly realms invade!" 
 
The pirate ceased: as closed his story grim, 
 
 Aurora smiled above the eastern hills; 
 The woods resound, and through the azure dim 
 
 In golden eddies foam the moaning rills. 
 
 Nature awakes; her pulse the landscape thrills, 
 And all with life inspires. Our men uprose 
 
 And hasty sought their cheer. Ben Nebo wills 
 The forest to explore thenceward he goes; 
 His comrade into life the arid tinder blows. 
 
 Anon when rural fare their hunger fed, 
 
 The circumjacent lands around they rove, 
 And jocund view spontaneous bounties spread 
 
 O er mountain, glen, and solemn-looking grove. 
 
 Long thus they rambled, till a thicket wove 
 With heat-excluding woof, to rest invites. 
 
 Here stretch d at length, across a glassy cove, 
 They saw astounded, from the neighboring heights, 
 Titanic moas wing their long, laborious flights. 
 
 While thus in idlesse prone the seamen lay, 
 Watchful of what their vision pass d before, 
 
 Ben Nebo s thoughts were wand ring far away, 
 And often sought his long forsaken shore 
 That shore which he might never visit more. 
 
 And musing thus his thoughts began to lower. 
 Congenial to the winds, that whisp ring o er 
 
 The distant seas, sighed thro the nemorous bower, 
 And filled with pensive dreams the spirit-soothing hour. 
 
 Then Nora s charms in added freshness rose, 
 And woke to voice the love-inspiring song; 
 
 From his distilling lips the measure flows 
 In nervous verse in mellow tide along, 
 As thousand beauteous scenes his fancy throng. 
 
 Of love he sang, whence sprang its mystic birth, 
 Its mystic chain that binds the weak and strong, 
 
 Or bends to anguish or exalts to mirth, 
 All that as mortals press the air-suspended earth. 
 
or THB 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
61 
 
 As the sweet image rose before his mind 
 
 Thought he, no other with such charms could vie; 
 For Love is selfish, arrogant and blind. 
 
 And prone to cheat the most experienced eye; 
 
 Besides, by nature being rather sly 
 He rollicks in a good, clean-cutting jest, 
 
 Nor cares how deep love-smitten creatures sigh; 
 How swains go mad; how feverish maidens rest; 
 Or how the grandam coos with spasms in her breast. 
 
 Ere yet the crescent reached the middle dome, 
 Both heroes trod the steep-ascending road, 
 
 Rejoiced to gain their rude, but friendly home, 
 And cast aside their heart-oppressive load 
 In slumber s torpid spell. But dreams forebode 
 
 The wished enchantment; troubled they repose; 
 Within each sleeper thoughts tumultuous rode 
 
 In slumber-breaking hostspresaging woes 
 Portentous which no mere word-painting can disclose. 
 
 Ben Nebo vainly sought to fall asleep; 
 
 Keen were his senses feverish they wrought 
 In tempest visions such as darkling sweep 
 
 Through some Byronic soul by Angels taught 
 
 To sing the terrors of Immortal thought. 
 He tost, he murmur d, as along they cours d, 
 
 Till all the darkness seem d with spectres fraught; 
 Then, horrified, from his deep silence forc d, 
 He hailed his comrade: long the two sad men discours d. 
 
 And thus the mate: " Perchance these dreams are sent 
 
 As subtle warnings of some peril laid 
 By foes unknown, yet primed with fell intent 
 
 Our lives to end. But by this mystic aid 
 
 We may the dangers of the hour evade, " 
 He said. The twain uprose; throughout that night 
 
 With nervous steps bestrode the dewy glade; 
 When in alarm Ben Nebo saw a light 
 Fixed on the barren shore below the turret s hight. 
 
62 
 
 He then his comrade hailed; both men alarmed 
 
 Gazed on the light, which, as the air was clear, 
 Proved a huge fire, by wild-men lit, who swarmed 
 
 Around the whirling blaze in rude career. 
 
 Till dawn our sailors watched in livid fear 
 The blacks carouse; when in periguas stowed 
 
 They stood away. Once from the island sheer. 
 Our seamen to the smould ring embers strode, 
 And there beheld a sight that man s foul nature showed. 
 
 There, cast about the ashes, did appear 
 
 Fragments of human flesh; dark clots of gore 
 
 And bones black-singed, grim relics of the cheer 
 Which had sufficed the cannibals, when o er 
 The waters roaming, on this lonesome shore 
 
 They landed to partake their hideous fare. 
 Sick at the sight our heroes homeward bore, 
 
 Musing on what they saw; and loth to spare 
 The next swart troop that should invade their lonely lair. 
 
 But scarce they left the foul-ensanguin d scene, 
 When Nebo roused a black, who fast asleep 
 
 Had laid a copse of sago-trees between. 
 Woke by th intrusion, with a sudden leap 
 He rose, and fled so swiftly, as to keep 
 
 Our seamen far behind, though hot to slay 
 The flying wretch. At length a rocky steep 
 
 Enveiled him from pursuit. There hid he lay 
 Till the blue waters drank the fading hues of day; 
 
 Then cat-like out he came. In quest of prey 
 Pie sought the offals of the ghastful feast; 
 
 But by our heroes seen, they dogged his way 
 As hunters dog some dread, ferocious beast, 
 Nor till the spot was reached this duty ceased. 
 
 But as from out the wood they boldly prest 
 The savage turned his inky visage creased 
 
 And ere a death shot could the deed arrest, 
 Th illfated mate received a javelin in his breast. 
 
As sinks the shotted corse beneath the wave, 
 
 So sank the mate at that death-dealing blow; 
 Yet ere his spirit to the winds he gave, 
 Ben Nebo s musket laid the slayer low- 
 Yet poorly recompensed his poignant woe. 
 Then on the mate s remains he sadly gazed, 
 
 And mused on things but the afflicted know- 
 Things that grim-shapen nigh his reason crazed, 
 Which doleful Horror from his devilish gulfs upraised. 
 
 All things must perish. Once their work is done, 
 
 All in negation must dissolve away; 
 The noble oak when its last sand has run 
 
 Shall only later than frail man decay; 
 
 But later still the Pyramids shall lay 
 In atoms prone, and Earth, still later rent, 
 
 Shall like these all Destruction s law obey. 
 All, all must perish, such their chief intent, 
 From chaos first they came in chaos to be blent. 
 
 Ay, all must perish: nought of earth can stand 
 
 The ever-gnawing tooth of deathful Time 
 That eats into all things. Man s temples grand; 
 
 His proudest columns; empires reared sublime; 
 
 The mind s great efforts; Nature s wonders prime, 
 In his sharp fang succumb. Thus Allah wills 
 
 They rise spontaneous; at th appointed chime 
 Expiring sink. The mightiest globe that fills 
 The depthless void for naught its wondrous power distills. 
 
 Tis evening s hour. The dying orb of day 
 Veils his last gleam beyond the purple sea, 
 
 As sad Ben Nebo wends his lonely way 
 
 Down the steep hill and o er the winding lea, 
 To where a trench beneath a rifted tree 
 
 Wnde-gaping yawns. Here must the mate repose; 
 His oft-selected tomb, and near where she, 
 
 Timandra, whom he loved, when living chose 
 As her eternal crypt when life s black dream should close. 
 
Whilst his dull task the pensive man pursues, 
 
 Excursive sorrows through his bosom stream; 
 Again the chequered past his mind reviews, 
 
 And scans a lengthened waste, where scarce a gleam 
 Of light breaks thro the gloom where horrors teem 
 And all is turmoil, doubt and wretchedness; 
 
 Such the dark thoughts unlit by cheering beam- 
 That his afflicted spirit earthward press; 
 Until he doubted life and longed for nothingness. 
 
 In vain! Who can reverse his orbit here, 
 Or guide his being as his sovereign mind ? 
 
 Who shape his course as his own timoneer, 
 Or sail without an over-ruling wind 
 Who mauger Fate can journey unconfined ? 
 
 Man s but the toy of an omniscient power, 
 
 Whose foresight hath his farthest acts designed, 
 
 Hath sent him here to mewl his little hour, 
 And wither at a blast like the frost-bitten flower. 
 
 His day is closed before his Morn s begun 
 Ere yet the grain is ripe the scythe resounds 
 
 At one fell swoop his life-inspiring sun 
 
 From beaming light into grim darkness bounds, 
 Like downy-blossomed plants o er meadow grounds 
 
 By winds impelled, his flying years succeed, 
 One raven shadow all his sky surrounds, 
 
 And dim the ray that may his spirit lead; 
 Here till his work be done, unhappy man must bleed. 
 
 Yet Allah ruleth all in Him we move, 
 In Him our being have, our bents pursue; 
 
 He prompts to toil, he leads mankind above; 
 He bathes the landscape in its varied hue, 
 And wheels the stars etherial orbits through. 
 
 All, all are full of Him: the Seasons raise 
 Their thankful homage as they sweep anew; 
 
 And man, vain man should join the votive praise 
 Extolling the great Source, of all that he surveys. 
 
(55 
 
 The crow is chanting 1 on the rifted ledge, 
 
 Loud-roarings echo from the deep, where white, 
 Gainst billow-breaking rocks along the edge. 
 
 Hoarse beats the surge. No more in serried flight 
 The wild-ducks fly; but on the sheltered hight 
 Condensed await in expectation still 
 
 The gathering storm. Anon in rising might 
 Upsurging ocean chafes; shores whistle shrill; 
 Crags moan; woods nodding roar, and howls the topmost hi 
 
 As night o er all her sable mantle spread, 
 
 Ben Nebo sought the solitary tower, 
 And whilst the embers weird reflections shed, 
 
 He close-encoiled in Retrospection s power 
 
 In doleful thought beguiled the wintry hour; 
 Xo soothing slumber lulled that thought to rest, 
 
 But fiery pangs his deepest soul devour; 
 Love still a vigil kept within his breast, 
 And by the sounds without still deeper was imprest. 
 
 Imbound in moody dreams he drooping bent 
 
 Before the lurid and inconstant blaze- 
 Heedless of all on his own woes intent 
 
 Though rude without the blust ring tempest plays, 
 And blows the flame a thousand different ways. 
 But he, sad hermit in his ruined cell, 
 
 Disowns the present, and the past surveys; 
 By sorrow taught within himself to d well- 
 He breathed on earth but lived in climes invisible. 
 
LOAN PtWOL) 
 
 DEPARTMENT 
 
 * 
 
 3 
 6 
 
 
 FORM NO. DD6