Or been partaker of th’ unhallow’d feast, Where beast-like man devours his fellow beast, And churn’d the bleeding life? while each great dame And sovereign beauty bade adieu to shame? Or did the storm, that thy wreck’d pinnace bore, Impel thee gasping on some unknown shore; Where, when thy beard and nails were savage grown, Some swarthy princess took thee for her own, 170 Some danger-dreading Yarico, who, kind, Sent thee away, and, prudent, staid behind? “Come--I am ready wonders to receive, Prone to assent, and willing to believe.” Richard replied: “It must be known to you, That tales improbable may yet be true; And yet it is a foolish thing to tell A tale that shall be judged improbable; While some impossibilities appear So like the truth, that we assenting hear: 180 Yet, with your leave, I venture to relate A chance-affair, and fact alone will state; Though, I confess, it may suspicion breed, And you may cry, ‘improbable, indeed!’ * * * * * “When first I tried the sea, I took a trip, But duty none, in a relation’s ship; Thus, unengaged, I felt my spirits light, Kept care at distance, and put fear to flight; Oft this same spirit in my friends prevail’d, Buoyant in dangers, rising when assail’d; 190 When, as the gale at evening died away-- And die it will with the retiring day-- Impatient then, and sick of very ease, We loudly whistled for the slumbering breeze. “One eve it came; and, frantic in my joy, I rose and danced, as idle as a boy: The cabin-lights were down, that we might learn A trifling something from the ship astern; The stiffening gale bore up the growing wave, And wilder motion to my madness gave. 200 Oft have I since, when thoughtful and at rest, Believed some maddening power my mind possess’d; For, in an instant, as the stern sank low, (How moved I knew not--What can madness know?) Chance that direction to my motion gave, And plunged me headlong in the roaring wave; Swift flew the parting ship,--the fainter light Withdrew,--or horror took them from my sight. “All was confused above, beneath, around; All sounds of terror; no distinguish’d sound 210 Could reach me, now on sweeping surges tost, And then between the rising billows lost; An undefined sensation stopp’d my breath; Disorder’d views and threat’ning signs of death Met in one moment, and a terror gave-- I cannot paint it--to the moving grave. My thoughts were all distressing, hurried, mix’d, On all things fixing, not a moment fix’d, Vague thoughts of instant danger brought their pain, New hopes of safety banish’d them again; 220 Then the swoln billow all these hopes destroy’d,