And in a world of darkness seems As now to stray; feels fear and cold, And in his horrid madness deems The cord his neck infold: And so much more, in desperate fight, In anguish to escape his lot, He strives, with so much more the might He binds the fatal knot: And voices hears, confused the whole, Of people round, and then that cry, “Your alms, for prayers to rest the soul Of him condemn’d to die!” Or fancies now that he is free; And breathes the fresh pure air, and hears Her sigh of love, the maid whom he Had loved in happier years: Beauteous and kind as e’er of old, Sweet flower of spring-time’s gay resort, As could for love the meads behold, Or gallant April court. And joyful he to see her flies, And seeks to reach her, but in vain; For as with anxious hands he tries His hoped-for bliss to gain, The illusion suddenly to break, He finds the dream deceitful fled! A cold stiff corpse the shape to take, And scaffold in its stead. And hears the mournful funeral knoll, And hollow voice resounding nigh, “Your alms, for prayers to rest the soul Of him condemn’d to die!” THE SONG OF THE PIRATE. The breeze fair aft, all sails on high, Ten guns on each side mounted seen, She does not cut the sea, but fly, A swiftly sailing brigantine; A pirate bark, the ‘Dreaded’ named, For her surpassing boldness famed, On every sea well known and shore, From side to side their boundaries o’er. The moon in streaks the waves illumes; Hoarse groans the wind the rigging through; In gentle motion raised assumes The sea a silvery shade with blue; While singing gaily on the poop, The pirate Captain, in a group, Sees Europe here, there Asia lies, And Stamboul in the front arise. Sail on, my swift one! nothing fear; Nor calm, nor storm, nor foeman’s force Shall make thee yield in thy career, Or turn thee from thy course. Despite the English cruisers fleet We have full twenty prizes made; And see their flags beneath my feet A hundred nations laid. My treasure is my gallant bark, My only god is liberty; My law is might, the wind my mark, My country is the sea. There blindly kings fierce wars maintain, For palms of land, when here I hold As mine, whose power no laws restrain, Whate’er the seas infold. Nor is there shore around whate’er, Or banner proud, but of my might Is taught the valorous proofs to bear, And made to feel my right. My treasure is my gallant bark, My only god is liberty; My law is might, the wind my mark, My country is the sea.