his position, he found time to compose the following verses in reply to a similar communication which he had received from the daughter of M. Dumas (it will be remembered that he deplored his inability in the Texel to find time for his present occupation): "Were I, Paul Jones, dear maid, 'the king of sea,' I find such merit in thy virgin song, A coral crown with bays I'd give to thee, A car which on the waves should smoothly glide along; The Nereides all about thy side should wait, And gladly sing in triumph of thy state, 'Vivat! vivat! the happy virgin Muse! Of liberty the friend, who tyrant power pursues!' "Or, happier lot! Were fair Columbia free From British tyranny, and youth still mine, I'd tell a tender tale to one like thee With artless looks and breast as pure as thine. If she approved my flame, distrust apart, Like faithful turtles, we'd have but one heart; Together, then, we'd tune the silver lyre, As love or sacred freedom should our lays inspire. "But since, alas! the rage of war prevails, And cruel Britons desolate our land, For freedom still I spread my willing sails, My unsheath'd sword my injured country shall command. Go on, bright maid! the Muses all attend Genius like thine, and wish to be its friend. Trust me, although conveyed through this poor shift, My New Year's thoughts are grateful for thy gift." I have read worse poetry than this, also better, but it is very creditable to the sailor. If the reader has a low opinion of it, let him essay some verse-writing himself.[33] While at Corunna, the ship was careened and her bottom scraped as far as possible without docking her, and, having procured an anchor to take the place of the two lost in the Texel, Jones prepared to set forth once more. The 28th of January was fixed for his departure, but the discontent among the crew reached such a pitch that they positively refused to weigh anchor unless they received at least a portion of their pay or prize money. Nothing had been paid them from the time the ships had been put in commission until they reached the Texel. There Jones had received from Amsterdam a small sum of money, from which he advanced five ducats to each of the officers and one to each of the men. The amount, compared to their dues and needs, was so insignificant that many of the men threw the money into the sea in disgust--a very foolish but extremely sailorlike action.