I ask no toils, no perils I demand,
But what shall share this heart, this willing hand.
Recreants! redeem the credit of your name,
Nor home return with foreheads veil'd in shame.
Delancey spoke and as the deck he trod,
His form commanded, and his visage aw'd:
The kindling crew, as bees on sounding wing
At summons pour around their idol king,
Leap on the thwarts, their guardian chief sustain,
Grasp the broad oars, and dare the raging main.
The boat's helm guiding, wrapt in foam appear'd
The master-seaman, and the rowers cheer'd:
Keep equal time, my still unconquer'd crew,
Stretch to your oars,
and throw around your view-
Much has the frigate drifted, since from high
The boy was hurl'd, and our ears caught his cry.
Now from the wat'ry ridge the dizzy skiff
Shoots like a chough-blown from some airy cliff
Down to the frothy vale-and midst the roar
Of the swoln sea again is seen to soar.
The chief exhorts, and ev'ry panting breast
Is rais'd by turns with hope, by turns with fear
Intent around the confines of the deep
Their searching eyes the luckless outcast seek-
They call on Talbot with a voice of pain,
And Talbot, Talbot, sounds along the main-
Talbot they shout-faint on his wat'ry bier,
Their deep cries pass unheeded by his ear—
Looking his last, he half beholds the skies,
Thinks on his home, and wishes as he dies.
Now on our deck 'tis sadly silent all,
And rugged features melt at sorrow's call,
And many a noble seaman mournful stands
With downcast eyes, wet cheeks, and folded hands;
And many a youth averted turns to weep
As the boat slowly measures back the deep
Without the boy-dire is the row-lock's noise,*
Heard in the pause of ocean's raging voice.
Then as the rope-coil the mute boatswain threw†
To the pale oar-men, drench'd with briny dew,
* Row-locks are notches in a boat's gunwale to receive the oars: they produce a repercussive sound in rowing.
+ When a boat approaches a ship at sea, there is always some one on board prepared to throw the boat's crew a coil of rope, in order to enable them to haul up alongside.
A burst of anguish issued from our train,
Loud as the surges of the stormy main.
With more than vulgar grief Delancey stood
Amidst his wretched comrades of the flood.
Tears grace the eye of man-supplied
To him alone-the lower world denied-
And he, who long unshaken and serene
Had death in storms and naval combat seen,
Now on the deck subdued by grief appears,
His body bent, his soul dissolv'd in tears.
Leaning his folded arms against the mast,
He mourns the lov'd boy bleaching to the blast:
O wretched end! as thine no mortal's doom,
Not e'en the sand strew'd o'er thee for a tomb,
But in the vaulty deep thy reliques stray,
By night unshelter'd, and forlorn by day.
For thy departed soul no passing bell
Flung to the hollow gale a solemn knell.
For thee no mourners through the church-yard way,
Held the black pall, and wept in long array,
For thee no organ peal'd, no choral train
With holy anthem clos'd the solemn strain.
No duty thee the surplic'd-pastor paid,
And the last words that dust to dust convey'd,
Nor hand officious heap'd thy rising bed
Of swelling earth, memorial of the dead.
O worthy better fate! whose lov'd remains,
Unrescu'd from its rage, the deep contains,
No more, dear boy, the boatswain's shrilly call
Shall at the dawn thy waking ear enthral,
No more the backstay through thy palm shall glide,
Thy body poising o'er the azure tide,
Nor shall thy hand o'er the proud mast display
The trophied flag that marks Columbia's sway.
A patriot's ardour swell'd thy youthful breast,
For thy great country's weal too soon represt, 790
Thy cherish'd wish on this terraqueous ball,
Like Hull to triumph, or like Burrows+ fall,
* Hull commanded the United States frigate Constitution in her action with the Guerriere. The engagement took place in latitude 41 deg. North, and longitude 55 deg. West. The Constitution carried guns of a twenty-four pound calibre; the Guerriere eighteens. At five P. M. they commenced close action-at twenty minutes past five the Guerriere's mizen-mast fell, and at twenty minutes past six her fore and main-masts went over the side, leaving the ship an unmanageable wreck. There was great firmness shewn on board the Guerriere in maintaining the fight an hour against a superior force, after the loss of her mizen-mast, Hull's chief merit is, that his crew were so skilfully trained to their great guns, that they fired them more like rifle-men than artillerists; and that he brought his ship out of the action comparatively uninjured. As the Guerriere struck, a sail hove in sight, when the Yankey frigate got all clear for another engagement.
+ Burrows commanded the United States brig Enterprize in her memorable action with the British Brig Boxer, commanded by Cap
To awe the tyrants of the turban'd host,
And foreign fleets expel from Freedom's coast-
But gone art thou, nor shall with grateful glow 795
Columbia wreathe a laurel round thy brow.
When homeward steering the indulgent gales
Back to our port restore our spreading sails,
When with mix'd tumult, black'ning all the strand,
Crowds swarm on crowds to hail our ship to land,
When throbs thy mother, eager to explore
The bark her Talbot through the surges bore,
And throwing back her veil, with fond alarms
Hopes, hopes to press thee in her longing arms,
How harrow up her veins, how fades her eye, 805
To see our drooping colours half-mast high!
Her breast misgiving fears with boding pain
Thou ne'er wilt bless her blazing hearth again,
But not thee yet her darkest thoughts can form
A vagrant corse before th' infuriate storm.
Thy fate reveal'd, to me she makes her moans, Mingles her talk with tears, her sighs with groans, Me she rebukes, who her sweet solace led
O'er the dark deep to mingle with the dead
Where plummet never reach'd; oh! wayward doom, Denied a funeral and a lasting tomb.
tain Blythe. This gallant affair took place between Seguin and Cape Elizabeth, near Portland, Massachusetts. Both commanders fell in the conflict, and both were buried in the same grave. Burrows expired in the arms of victory, as the Boxer was hauling down her colours.
|