Clasp'd in her arnis th' unconscious cherub lay, 635
Like some soft flower that closes with the day;
Serene she smil'd to the fond bosom prest,
And midst the tumult innocence finds rest.
Soon as the Warrior pass'd us on the main,
Meekly devout, the plank our knees sustain-
The babe to love maternal once restor❜d,
Carest with rapture, is with tears explor'd:-
Whate'er the transports this poor life can bring,
The heart's best bliss resembles sorrowing.*
In the event of the collision of two ships at sea, and the destruction of the smaller one, there is no resource left but in the boats. If they be of the same bulk, both may founder. Two remarkable British men of war, after leaving port, were never more heard of; the Aurora frigate, having on board Falconer, the legitimate oceanbard; and the Blenheim, a seventy-four, manned with the heroes of the Nile. Their loss is commonly ascribed to a heavy gale, but I have often thought they might respectively have gone down in a midnight encounter with some other ship, and their startled crews have resigned their spirits in one wailing burst of anguish.
Morn comes at last, but, oh! no solace brings, 645
She bears no balm, no healing on her wings,
Rayless she rises o'er our plunging prow,
Bow'd is each heart, dejected ev'ry brow,
Still rage the billows with terrific form,
And howling havoc guides the vengeful storm.
High o'er the topsail yard, the shatter'd sail
Flutters in fragments to the hostile gale-
Seamen, aloft!" the young Lieutenants cry, And pressing to the rolling-tackles fly
Up men aloft, the canvass to unbend,
"While some below the weather-brace attend."
Vainly they summon and rebuke the crew-
They all stand motionless before their view-
Hampden the shroud infolds with zealous hand,
To mount in air, and lead the naval band-
Vainly he calls them on with upward eye-
He kindles none-they pause in agony.
Ye sacred Nine, who o'er the harp preside,
Assist my song in melting strain to glide-
Prompt the deep murmurs of my lyre, and tell 665
How in his op'ning bloom young Talbot fell-
Dear to his shipmates-hurl'd before their eyes
From the tall mast-thought shrinks from where he
With courage nerv'd, the canvass to unbend,
Six seamen with the gallant boy ascend
The rock'd yard dipping low;-the shatter'd sail
Flaps to the impulse of the bursting gale-
Talbot the yard-arm seeks with generous cheer,
While we on deck look upward pale with fear.
One hand the lift embrac'd-his head was bare-
In ringlets o'er his shoulders wav'd his hair-
Wild to the gale his azure mantle flows
Of glossy texture, edg'd with beryl rows,
That, rich in silken threads, his mother wove
With her own hands, the witness of her love.
The toss'd ship heaves him pendant to the skies,
What now remains to us but tears and sighs.
Our vows we pour-dread Spirit of the Storm,
Spare the poor sea-boy, spare his tender form!
Pale to the helm the wary pilot came,
The ship's unbridled sallies to reclaim,
But came in vain-the storm in ireful mood
Bore the boy headlong downward to the flood,
Down to the deep-like a fleet meteor hurl'd
To quench its glories in the wat❜ry world.
Struggling he mounts, and lifts his wretched hands,
And from his shipmates some kind aid demands, 690
And cries for help, but cries with voice supprest,
As the rude billow beats his quiv'ring breast.
The Captain heard, and rush'd towards the helm,
To check the ship ere seas his form o'erwhelm-
Hard, hard a-lee! with thick'ning voice he cries, 695
Hard, hard a-lee! the timoneer replies—
The fore-sail shakes, our vessel wildly bounds,
And with the beating surge the prow resounds.
Then Hampden to the life-buoy eager flew,
And lifted up, and overboard he threw;
While others cast the gratings o'er the side,
And coops and hatches strew the flashing tide.*
The crew deplore and swarming seek the stern,
Whence, in the wake, their comrade they discern
Striving against the whelming wave to urge,
That bears him like a bubble on its surge.
Through the craz'd crowd tumultuous clamours ran
When thus the chief his stern rebuke began:
Degenerate crew! what sink your souls with fear?
Will ye not spring to rescue one so dear?
Look ye thus on! a deedless, craven train,
When duty prompts our boat upon the main?
Fear ye
she cannot live, and does the wave
Appal your breasts, when Mercy pleads to save?
* When a person falls overboard at sea the consternation of the crew will be readily conceived. The general cry through the ship is, "A man overboard! Hard down with the helm!" The helm is immediately put a-lee, the ship hove up in the wind, and her progress through the water suspended. Meantime, whilst the sails are shaking, the life buoy is launched from the quarter, and coops and gratings are thrown to aid the object of general sympathy; and, if the sea be not so tremendous as to render his situation irretrievable, the boat is lowered and dispatched to rescue him.
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