And then those heavy iron chests With desperate strength took he, And ten of the strongest mariners Did cast them into the sea. And out, from the bottom of the sea, There came a hollow groan;-- The captain by the gunwale stood, And he looked like icy stone-- And he drew in his breath with a gasping sob, And a spasm of death came on. And a furious boiling wave rose up, With a rushing, thundering roar,-- I saw the captain fall to the deck, But I never saw him more. Two days before, when the storm began, We were forty men and five, But ere the middle of that night There were but two alive. The child and I, we were but two, And he clung to me in fear; Oh! it was pitiful to see That meek child in his misery, And his little prayers to hear! At length, as if his prayers were heard, 'Twas calmer, and anon The clear sun shone, and warm and low A steady wind from the west did blow, And drove us gently on. And on we drove, and on we drove, That fair young child and I, But his heart was as a man's in strength, And he uttered not a cry. There was no bread within the wreck, And water we had none, Yet he murmured not, and cheered me When my last hopes were gone; But I saw him waste and waste away, And his rosy cheek grow wan. Still on we drove, I knew not where, For many nights and days, We were too weak to raise a sail, Had there been one to raise. Still on we went, as the west wind drove, On, on, o'er the pathless tide; And I lay in a sleep, 'twixt life and death, And the child was at my side. And it chanced as we were drifting on Amid the great South Sea, An English vessel passed us by That was sailing cheerily; Unheard by me, that vessel hailed And asked what we might be. The young child at the cheer rose up, And gave an answering word, And they drew him from the drifting wreck As light as is a bird. They took him gently in their arms, And put again to sea:-- 'Not yet! not yet!' he feebly cried, 'There was a man with me.' Again unto the wreck they came, Where, like one dead, I lay, And a ship-boy small had strength enough To carry me away. Oh, joy it was when sense returned That fair, warm ship to see. And to hear the child within his bed Speak pleasant words to me! I thought at first that we had died, And all our pains were o'er, And in a blessed ship of Heaven Were sailing to its shore. But they were human forms that knelt Beside our bed to pray, And men, with hearts most merciful, Did watch us night and day. 'Twas a dismal tale I had to tell Of wreck and wild distress, But, even then, I told to none The captain's wickedness.