At length, when rage had spent itself His lofty heart gave way, And, falling on his pretty knees, At the captain’s feet he lay. “Oh take me back again!” he cried, “Let me not tarry here, And I’ll give thee sea-apples, And honey rich and clear; “And fetch thee heavy pearl-stones From deep sea-caves below; And red tree-gold and coral-tree, If thou wilt let me go! “Or if I must abide with thee,-- In thy great ship to dwell, Let me but just go back again, To bid them all farewell!” And at the word “farewell” he wept, As if his heart would break; The very memory of his tears Sore sad my heart doth make. The captain’s self was almost moved To hear his woful cry; And there was not within the ship One man whose eyes were dry. When the captain saw the seamen’s grief, An angry man was he, And shut his heart against the child, For our great sympathy. Down from the deck he took him To his cabin all alone: We saw him not for many a day, But only heard his moan. PART II. It was a wicked deed, and Heaven All wickedness doth hate; And vengeance on the oppressor, It cometh soon or late,-- As you will see. There something was, Even from the very night Whereon the captain stole the child, On board that was not right. From out the cabin evermore, Where they were all alone, We heard, oh piteous sounds to hear, A low and quiet moan; And now and then cries sad enough To move a heart of stone. The captain had a conscious look, Like one who doeth wrong, And yet who striveth all the time Against a conscience strong. The seamen did not work at all With a good will or a free; And the ship, as she were sullen too, Went slowly over the sea, ’Twas then the captain from below Sent down in haste for me. I found him lying on his bed, Oppressed with fever-pain; And by his death-struck face, I saw That he would not rise again,-- That he, so lately hale and strong, Would never rise again. “I have done wickedly,” said he, “And Christ doth me condemn;-- I have children three on land,” groaned he, “And woe will come to them! “I have been weighed, and wanting found; I’ve done an evil deed!-- I pray thee, mate, ’tis not too late, Take back this child with speed! “I have children three,” again groaned he, “And I pray that this be done!-- Thou wilt have order of the ship When I am dead and gone:-- I pray thee do the thing I ask, That mercy may be won!” I vowed to do the thing he asked, Upon the Testament; And true enough, that very day To his account he went.