Each waning star from heav'n's blué vault retires, And Venus fading last of all expires.

3890

3895

The wilderness of waves has chang❜d its hue
To paly green from dye of deepest blue,
The twittering swallow hovers o'er the mast,
The wreathing rock-weed on the sea is pass'd,
And as our rapid prow the billows lave
We meet the curlew floating on the wave,
Who, being peer'd at, dips his plumage white
Full in the foam, and vanishes from sight.
Now toil the tars-their hardy bosoms glow,
They heave the ponderous anchor o'er the bow, 3900
While up the hatch the cable's stubborn coil
From the deep tier is urg'd with shouting toil.
While now on ocean's bosom faintly die
The last pale glimpses of the twilight sky,
Watching from deck intent the coming morn,
We look her blush the headland to adorn,
And many a naval groupe already hail
Thy pastures, Albion, breathing in the gale.
Now, hark! aloft the canvass-climbing boy,
Nestling amidst the shrouds, with brawling joy,
Calls to the sailors, as he points his hand,
Good tidings shipmates-land, the blessed land!
Then thus the chief with rapture's glist'ning tear,
O! word to charm an angel from his sphere!

3905

What looks it like?

3915

I dinna ken its name,

But spy it, captain, in the salt sea faem

And, in gude faith, sin' heav'n will have it sae,
A kirk! a bonny kirk o'ertops the bay.

One with a chimney?

Hoot, you do it wrang―

Sic as where Shelty dearly loves to gang

Wi' his auld beard new-trimm'd. Hoot, hoot awa,
I see twa kirks, and twa kirk-yards witha.*-
Speak English-with your border-brogue have done,
To us 'tis German coil'd against the sun-
Look sharp about—is any bark in sight?—
Yonder is one with sail as siller bright.-
What looks she, boy, to thy discerning view?
One that defrauds the weal of revenue?
A smuggler, eh!-She looks, Sir, vary shy—
They've got their sweeps out, and inshore they ply.
They take us for a king's ship, Sir, nae doubt,
They're all on deck putting their sloop about,
Save some who, o'er the wave-repelling prow 3935
Their kegs are sinking in the deep below.†

3930

* In coming from sea, and making the Land's End at E. or ENE. two round hills are seen, on the higher one of which a church may be discerned, and on a nearer approach another church becomes visible upon the outermost end of the low land.

+ Smugglers, on the British coast, when in danger of being captured, often sink their kegs concatenated by a splice into a kind

Now they both ply the sweep, and hoist the sail→→→ They're busy as the de'el, Sir, in a gale.

Our flag display! we roam not to deprive
A smuggler of his freight-all trades must thrive→
They seek again their flaggons-venturous grown-
They see our stars, and joyous bless their own.
Boatswain! what boy is he who spies the land?—
The veriest rogue, Sir, under your command.
How name you him?-Caleb, the piper's page, 3945
His voice my bosom fills with deadly rage.
My poor boy Jug, who stood him once in fight,
Goug'd by the wretch, is half depriv'd of sight;
His larboard top-light, Sir, can scarce discern
The plank he treads on, or the stem from stern.
Does Scotland's leafless region claim his birth?
Wherefore his Erse?-He talks it, Sir, in mirth.
His uncouth dialect from Shelty caught,
His mimic tongue has to diversion wrought:
A true North Carolinian, from Cape Fear,
The young imp from no mischief can forbear :
Without remorse he leaves his hoary sire,

To join the skulkers at the galley-fire;*

3955

of chain; and, after the lapse of weeks, will return to the identical place, and drag successfully for their immersed freight, guided back by the remembrance of the bearing of some cape, or particular object on the shore.

* Small vessels have a caboose for cooking the victuals: large ones a galley-fire. A ship is a microcosm; and at the galley the

His quips, his pranks, his pastime to pursue
Amidst the most abandon'd of the crew.
And, when sung out for, up the hatch will dart,
And at Tom Cox's traverse play his part.

3960

When all the hands are pip'd, in vain I shout—
He stands two calls before he e'er turns out-
And though not longer rests a ground-tier butt,*
The recreant slumbers till his clues are cut.†
As for salvation, Sir, I humbly hope,
If overboard, I would not throw a rope!
To save his soul!-Pipes, if there truth be found
In adages-the boy will ne'er be drown'd.
Main-top-mast cross trees! whence with roving feet
Went you aloft the chalky coast to greet ?—
'Twas Shelty's will, Sir! only yesternight
The blind man saw it, Sir, by second sight-

3970

quid-nuncs assemble to discuss the news of the day. The falsehoods fabricated around the ship's ingle are called "Galley Packets;" a proverbial phrase for spurious news.

They who keep no watch at sea are likened to a ground-tier butt for the length of their slumber.

+ Those who do not turn out, after being repeatedly summoned, have the clues of their hammocks cut-which is called sawing their bed-posts.

Of a worthless fellow the sailors say, If he were to fall overboard I would not throw him a rope.

And charg'd me to endeavour to discern

The Land's End first, and a full bottle earn.

X.

THE PROMONTORY OF BOLERIUM,†

OR THE LAND'S END.

3975

Now for Britannia's isle we closer haul,

'The sea her trench, proud fleets her floating wall, Far in our wake the Longships‡ leave behind, And round Bolerium with indulgent wind

3980

*He who descries the land first is entitled, by prescription, to a bottle of rum.

The Land's End, or the western extremity of Cornwall, is called in the old authors the Promontory of Bellerium, or Bolerium, from Bellerus, a Cornish giant, who made it the place of his abode. Milton, in apostrophizing Lycidas, alludes to this tradition :

Or whether thou to our moist vows deny'd,
Sleep'st by the fable of Bellerus old.

The Longships are rocks off the Land's End, on the boldest of which a Light House is erected. To form some notion of this perilous reef of granite it needs only be told that, in a tempest the structure rocks violently, and that its lanthorn, though 110 feet in height, is covered with the bellowing surf. Had Zanga been placed here to trim the lamps, it may, I think, be questioned whether he would have exclaimed:

"I like this rocking of the battlements!"