I’m summon’d by death. ’Twere better far If I, where the stormy billows are, Had had to leave thee, my wife, my child, And straightway the northpole’s tempest wild The waters had flogg’d, and out of the deep The hideous monsters that in it sleep, The crocodile fierce and the shark, had come With open jaws, and around thee swum. Believe me, my child, Matilda, my wife, That the angry sea, in its wildest strife, And the cruel forest less dangers give Than the city where we’re now fated to live. Though fearful the wolf and the vulture may be, The shark, and the monsters dread of the sea, Far fiercer, more furious beasts have their birth In Paris, the capital proud of the earth. Fair Paris, the singing, so gay in her revels, That hell to the angels, that heaven to devils.-- That thee I must leave in this dungeon sad, This drives me crazy, this drives me mad. With scornful buzzing around my bed The black flies come; on my nose and head They perch themselves--detestable race! Amongst them are some with a human face, And elephants’ trunks (though small in span) Like the god Ganesa in Hindostan. In my brain I hear noises and heavy knocks, It sounds as if they were packing a box, And my reason departs, alas! alas! Ere I myself from this earth can pass. 6. THE SLAVE SHIP. PART I. The supercargo Mynher Van Koek In his cabin sits adding his figures; He calculates his cargo’s amount, And the probable gain from his niggers. “My gum and pepper are good: the stock “Is three hundred chests of all sizes; “I’ve gold dust and ivory too in store, “But the black ware by far the best prize is. “Six hundred niggers I bought dirt-cheap “Where the Senegal river is flowing; “Their flesh is firm, and their sinews tough “As the finest iron going. “I got them by barter, and gave in exchange “Glass beads, steel goods, and some brandy; “I shall make at least eight hundred per cent. “With but half of them living and handy. “If only three hundred niggers are left, “When I get to Rio Janeiro, “I shall have a hundred ducats a head “From the house of Gonzales Perreiro.”-- Here all of a sudden Mynher Van Koek Was disturb’d in his meditation, For Doctor Van Smissen enter’d in, The vessel’s surgeon by station. His figure was just as thin as a lath, And his nose had warts all over; “Well, worthy Doctor,” exclaim’d Van Koek, “Are my niggers still living in clover?” The Doctor thank’d him, and said in reply: “I’ve come with a tale of disaster; “Throughout the night, I’m sorry to say, “The deaths have grown faster and faster.