Through arches of umbrageous shade I journeyed onward undismayed, And undisturbed by man or beast, Made daily progress toward the east, Till viewing the Pacific shore, Northward along the coast I bore. I kept that course for many days, Where none but savage eyes might gaze; Full many a mile my footsteps led Through regions uninhabited, Till where Kamschatka's barren rocks Resist the sea's aggressive shocks, One gloomy afternoon, I stood And watched the wide and trackless flood. 'Twould make a tedious tale, I fear, Not meet for recitation here, Should I endeavor to relate The details of a hermit's fate. To all appearance I was free; A plethora of liberty Is little consolation, where One lonely recluse breathes the air; For solitary mortals find But little joy and peace of mind; When freedom is enjoyed alone, Its fondest attributes are flown; Men of companions destitute Sink to the level of the brute; Their sacred essence seems to be Dependent on community. Each morning, in the reddening skies, Alone, I watched the sun god rise, While every evening in the west, Alone, I watched him sink to rest. To catch a passing ship, in vain I hourly scanned the watery plain, Till one fair morn a distant sail Brought the conclusion of my tale. The whaler, such she proved to be, Steered landward through a rippling sea, And made directly for the shore; She anchored, then I saw them lower The ship's long-boat; at a command I saw them row, then saw them land. Fearing occasion might require The service of a signal fire, A mass of driftwood I had heaped; Behind that pile I hid and peeped. From that concealed position, I, Watching with closest scrutiny, Discovered that the squad of ten Were not my fellow-countrymen. Their purpose I could now discern; One had a spade, which turn by turn Each wielded till their willing hands Had delved a grave within the sands. Six of the party I espied Returning to the long-boat's side, Where from its bottom they began To raise the body of a man, In canvas strips securely sewed, All ready for its last abode; From every motion it would seem The object of sincere esteem. From my location I could see Them balance it most tenderly, As on six shoulders broad and strong, They bore it sorrowfully along, While wind and ever-restless surge Joined in a requiem or dirge.