343
Ill fated Vessel!—ghastly shock!
—At length delivered from the rock
The deep she hath regained;
And through the stormy night they steer,
Labouring for life, in hope and fear,
Towards a safer shore—how near,
Yet not to be attained!
Silence! the brave Commander cried;
To that calm word a shriek replied,
It was the last death-shriek.
—A few appear by morning light,
Preserved upon the tall mast's height:
Oft in my Soul I see that sight;
But one dear remnant of the night—
For him in vain I seek.
Six weeks beneath the moving sea
He lay in slumber quietly;
Unforced by wind or wave
To quit the Ship for which he died,
(All claims of duty satisfied;)
And there they found him at her side;
And bore him to the grave.