"And Ocean roll'd before me--fain Would I have whelm'd me in its tide, At once beneath the billowy main My shame, my guilt, my crime to hide; But HE was there!--HE cross'd my track,-- I dared not pass--HE waved me back! "And then rude hands detained me--sure Justice had grasp'd her victim--no! Though powerless, hopeless, bound, secure, A captive thrall, it was not so; They cry 'The Frenchman's on the wave!' The press was hot--and I a slave. "They dragg'd me o'er the vessel's side; The world of waters roll'd below; The gallant ship, in all her pride Of dreadful beauty, sought her foe; --Thou saw'st me, William, in the strife-- Alack! I bore a charmed life; "In vain the bullets round me fly, In vain mine eager breast I bare; Death shuns the wretch who longs to die, And every sword falls edgeless there! Still HE is near!--and seems to cry, 'Not _here_, nor _thus_, may Matcham die!'-- "Thou saw'st me, on that fearful day, When, fruitless all attempts to save, Our pinnace foundering in the bay, The boat's-crew met a watery grave,-- All, all--save ONE--the ravenous sea That swallow'd all--rejected ME! "And now, when fifteen suns have each Fulfilled in turn its circling year, Thrown back again on England's beach, Our bark paid off--HE drives me _Here_! I could not die in flood or fight-- HE drives me HERE!!"-- "And sarve you right! "What! bilk your Commander!--desart--and then rob! And go scuttling a poor little Drummer-boy's nob! Why, my precious eyes! what a bloodthirsty swab!-- There's old Davy Jones, Who cracks Sailors' bones For his jaw-work would never, I'm sure, s'elp me Bob, Have come for to go for to do sich a job! Hark ye, Waters,--or Matcham,--whichever's your purser-name, --T'other, your own, is, I'm sartain, the worser name,-- Twelve years have we lived on like brother and brother!-- Now--your course lays one way, and mine lays another!" "No, William, it may not be so; Blood calls for blood!--'tis Heaven's decree! And thou with me this night must go, And give me to the gallows-tree! Ha!--see--HE smiles--HE points the way! On, William, on! no more delay!" Now Bill,--so the story, as told to me, goes, And who, as his last speech sufficiently shows, Was a "regular trump,"--did not like to "turn Nose;" But then came a thunder-clap louder than any Of those that preceded, though they were so many; And hark!--as its rumblings subside in a hum, What sound mingles too?--"By the hokey--A DRUM!!" * * * * *