For then she thought on one regretted youth, 180 Her tender trust, and his unquestion'd truth; In ev'ry place she wander'd where they'd been, And sadly-sacred held the parting-scene, Where last for sea he took his leave--that place With double interest would she nightly trace; For long the courtship was, and he would say, Each time he sail'd,--"This once, and then the day." Yet prudence tarried; but, when last he went, He drew from pitying love a full consent. Happy he sail'd, and great the care she took, 190 That he should softly sleep, and smartly look; White was his better linen, and his check Was made more trim than any on the deck; And every comfort men at sea can know Was hers to buy, to make, and to bestow: For he to Greenland sail'd, and much she told, How he should guard against the climate's cold; Yet saw not danger; dangers he'd withstood, Nor could she trace the fever in his blood. His messmates smiled at flushings in his cheek, 200 And he too smiled, but seldom would he speak; For now he found the danger, felt the pain, With grievous symptoms he could not explain; Hope was awaken'd, as for home he sail'd, But quickly sank, and never more prevail'd. He call'd his friend, and prefaced with a sigh A lover's message--"Thomas, I must die. Would I could see my Sally, and could rest My throbbing temples on her faithful breast, And gazing go!--if not, this trifle take, 210 And say, till death I wore it for her sake. Yes! I must die--blow on, sweet breeze, blow on! Give me one look, before my life be gone, Oh! give me that, and let me not despair, One last fond look--and now repeat the prayer." He had his wish, had more; I will not paint The lovers' meeting: she beheld him faint-- With tender fears she took a nearer view, Her terrors doubling as her hopes withdrew; He tried to smile, and, half succeeding, said, 220 "Yes! I must die;" and hope for ever fled. Still long she nursed him: tender thoughts meantime Were interchanged, and hopes and views sublime. To her he came to die, and every day She took some portion of the dread away; With him she pray'd, to him his Bible read, Soothed the faint heart, and held the aching head. She came with smiles the hour of pain to cheer; Apart, she sigh'd; alone, she shed the tear; Then, as if breaking from a cloud, she gave 230 Fresh light, and gilt the prospect of the grave. One day he lighter seem'd, and they forgot The care, the dread, the anguish of their lot; They spoke with cheerfulness, and seem'd to think, Yet said not so--"Perhaps he will not sink." A sudden brightness in his look appear'd, A sudden vigour in his voice was heard;-- She had been reading in the Book of Prayer, And led him forth, and placed him in his chair;