"Oh, who can tell, save he whose heart hath tried, 15 "That seeks what cravens shun with more than zeal, "And where the feebler faint-can only feel 20 "Feel-to the rising bosom's inmost core, "Its hope awaken and its spirit soar? "No dread of death- -if with us die our foes repose: "Save that it seems even duller than 25 "When lost-what recks it-by disease or strife? "Let him who crawls enamour'd of decay, "Cling to his couch, and sicken years away; "Heave his thick breath; and shake his palsied head; "Ours the fresh turf, and not the feverish bed. "While gasp by gasp he falters forth his soul, "Ours with one pang-one bound-escapes control. "His corse may boast its urn and narrow cave, 30 35 "For us, even banquets fond regret supply "In the red cup that crowns our memory; "And the brief epitaph in danger's day, "When those who win at length divide the prey, 40 "And cry, Remembrance saddening o'er each brow, "How had the brave who fell exulted now!" II. Such were the notes that from the Pirate's isle, 45 In scatter'd groups upon the golden sand, They game-carouse -converse- -or whet the brand; Select the arms-to each his blade assign, And careless eye the blood that dims its shine: 50 Repair the boat, replace the helm or oar, Or spread beneath the sun the dripping net; Gaze where some distant sail a speck supplies, 55 With all the thirsting eye of Enterprise; And marvel where they next shall seize a spoil: No matter where-their chief's allotment this; And for his fare-the rudest of his crew 60 65 Would that, in turn, have pass'd untasted too; 70 Earth's coarsest bread, the garden's homeliest roots, And scarce the summer luxury of fruits, His short repast in humbleness supply With all a hermit's board would scarce deny. But while he shuns the grosser joys of sense, 75 His mind seems nourish'd by that abstinence. "Steer to that shore!"-they sail. "Do this!"-'tis done: "Now form and follow me!"-the spoil is won. Thus prompt his accents and his actions still, 80 To such, brief answer and contemptuous eye III. "A sail!-a sail !"-a promised prize to Hope! Her nation-flag-how speaks the telescope? No prize, alas!--but yet a welcome sail : The blood-red signal glitters in the gale. Yes—she is ours—a home returning bark- Receives that prow which proudly spurns the How gloriously her gallant course she goes! Her white wings flying-never from her foes She walks the waters like a thing of life, And seems to dare the elements to strife. 85 spray. 90 Who would not brave the battle-fire-the wreck 95 To move the monarch of her peopled deck? IV. Hoarse o'er her side the rustling cable rings; The sails are furl'd; and anchoring round she swings: And gathering loiterers on the land discern Her boat descending from the latticed stern. 100 "Tis mann'd-the oars keep concert to the strand, Till grates her keel upon the shallow sand. Hail to the welcome shout!--the friendly speech! " When hand grasps hand uniting on the beach; The smile, the question, and the quick reply, And the heart's promise of festivity! V. The tidings spread, and gathering grows the crowd: 105 109 And woman's gentler anxious tone is heard— "Oh! are they safe? we ask not of success— "But shall we see them? will their accents bless? "From where the battle roars the billows chafe They doubtless boldly did-but who are safe? "Here let them haste to gladden and surprise, "And kiss the doubt from these delighted eyes!" 115 VI. "Where is our chief? for him we bear report— "And doubt that joy-which hails our coming-short; "Yet thus sincere-'tis cheering, though so brief; "But, Juan! instant guide us to our chief: 120 "Our greeting paid, we'll feast on our return, "And all shall hear what each may wish to learn.” Ascending slowly by the rock-hewn way, To where his watch-tower beetles o'er the bay, |