AN OCEAN EREMITE.
To Captain Voss, bravest of mariners, who sailed round the world in a boat compared to which the galleons of Ithaca were towering ships.
Brave Captain, you have sailed away,
And now you rest upon the billows—
As unconcerned, I've heard you say,
As we who sleep upon our pillows.
Beneath your feet the shark may swim,
While overhead the petrel screeches,
You care no more than Dr. Jim
For Burton's or Molteno's speeches.
You heed not though the thunder peals,
The lightning's flash, you do not worry—
No more the tranquil Doctor feels
The ignominious snarls of Currey;
The rain may hiss, the billows crash—
You slumber, just like him unwitting
When Cronwright Schreiner's balderdash
Streams down upon the midnight sitting.
I wonder, Captain, why you chose
To bid farewell to ease and pleasure,
The snug fireside, the soft repose—
All that your fellow-mortals treasure?
Was it misfortune's icy breath
That gave you first the inclination?
And did you brave a liquid death
Because you dreaded liquidation?
