Canto II

II. Favourable breeze.Water-spout.The dying dolphin.Breeze freshens.Ship's rapid progress along the coast.Top-sails reefed.Gale of wind.Last appearance, bearing, and distance of Cape Spado.A squall.Top-sails double-reefed.Main-sail split.The ship bears up; again hauls upon the wind.Another main-sail bent, and set.Porpoises.

III. The ship driven out of her course from Candia.Heavy gale.Top-sails furled.Top-gallant-yards lowered.Heavy sea.Threatening sun-set.Difference of opinion respecting the mode of taking in themain-sail.Courses reefed.Four seamen lost off the lee mainyard-arm.Anxiety of the master, and his mates, on being near a lee-shore.Mizen reefed.

IV. A tremendous sea bursts over the deck; its consequences.The ship labours in great distress.Guns thrown over-board.Dismal appearance of the weather.Very high and dangerous sea.Storm of lightning.Severe fatigue of the crew at the pumps.Critical situation of the ship near the Island of Falconera.Consultation and resolution of the officers.Speech and advice of Albert; his devout address to heaven.Order given to scud.The fore stay-sail hoisted and split.The head yards braced aback.The mizen-mast cut away.

I. Adieu! ye pleasures of the sylvan scene,Where peace and calm contentment dwell serene:To me, in vain, on earth's prolific soil,With summer crown'd, the Elysian valleys smile:To me those happier scenes no joy impart,But tantalize with hope my aching heart.Ye tempests! o'er my head congenial roll,To suit the mournful music of my soul;In black progression, lo, they hover near!Hail, social horrors! like my fate severe:Old Ocean hail! beneath whose azure zoneThe secret deep lies unexplored, unknown.Approach, ye brave companions of the sea!And fearless view this awful scene with me.Ye native guardians of your country's laws!Ye brave assertors of her sacred cause!The Muse invites you, judge if she depart,Unequal, from the thorny rules of art.In practice train'd, and conscious of her power,She boldly moves to meet the trying hour:Her voice attempting themes, before unknownTo music, sings distresses all her own.II. O'er the smooth bosom of the faithless tides,Propell'd by flattering gales, the vessel glides:Rodmond, exulting, felt the auspicious wind,And by a mystic charm its aim confined.The thoughts of home that o'er his fancy roll,With trembling joy dilate Palemon's soul;Hope lifts his heart, before whose vivid rayDistress recedes, and danger melts away.Tall Ida's summit now more distant grew,And Jove's high hill was rising to the view;When on the larboard quarter they descryA liquid column towering shoot on high;The foaming base the angry whirlwinds sweep,Where curling billows rouse the fearful deep:Still round and round the fluid vortex flies,Diffusing briny vapours o'er the skies.This vast phenomenon, whose lofty head,In heaven immersed, embracing clouds o'erspread,In spiral motion first, as seamen deem,Swells, when the raging whirlwind sweeps the stream.The swift volution, and the enormous train,Let sages versed in nature's lore explain.The horrid apparition still draws nigh,And white with foam the whirling billows fly.The guns were primed; the vessel northward veers,Till her black battery on the column bears:The nitre fired; and, while the dreadful sound,Convulsive shook the slumbering air around,The watery volume, trembling to the sky,Burst down, a dreadful deluge, from on high!The expanding ocean trembled as it fell,And felt with swift recoil her surges swell;But soon, this transient undulation o'er,The sea subsides, the whirlwinds rage no more.While southward now the increasing breezes veer,Dark clouds incumbent on their wings appear:Ahead they see the consecrated groveOf Cyprus, sacred once to Cretan Jove.The ship beneath her lofty pressure reels,And to the freshening gale still deeper heels.But now, beneath the lofty vessel's stern,A shoal of sportive dolphins they discern,Beaming from burnish'd scales refulgent rays,Till all the glowing ocean seems to blaze:In curling wreaths they wanton on the tide,Now bound aloft, now downward swiftly glide;Awhile beneath the waves their tracks remain,And burn in silver streams along the liquid plain.Soon to the sport of death the crew repair,Dart the long lance, or spread the baited snare.One in redoubling mazes wheels along,And glides unhappy near the triple prong:Rodmond, unerring, o'er his head suspendsThe barbed steel, and every turn attends;Unerring aim'd, the missile weapon flew,And, plunging, struck the fated victim through:The upturning points his ponderous bulk sustain,On deck he struggles with convulsive pain.But while his heart the fatal javelin thrills,And flitting life escapes in sanguine rills,What radiant changes strike the astonish'd sight!What glowing hues of mingled shade and light!Not equal beauties gild the lucid westWith parting beams all o'er profusely drest;Not lovelier colours paint the vernal dawn,When orient dews impearl the enamell'd lawn,Than from his sides in bright suffusion flow,That now with gold empyreal seem to glow;Now in pellucid sapphires meet the view,And emulate the soft celestial hue;Now beam a flaming crimson on the eye,And now assume the purple's deeper dye:But here description clouds each shining ray;What terms of art can nature's powers display!The lighter sails, for summer winds and seas,Are now dismiss'd, the straining masts to ease;Swift on the deck the stud-sails all descend,Which ready seamen from the yards unbend;The boats then hoisted in are fix'd on board,And on the deck with fastening gripes secured.The watchful ruler of the helm no moreWith fix'd attention eyes the adjacent shore,But by the oracle of truth below,The wondrous magnet guides the wayward prow.The powerful sails, with steady breezes swell'd,Swift and more swift the yielding bark impell'd:Across her stem the parting waters run,As clouds, by tempests wafted, pass the sun.Impatient thus she darts along the shore,Till Ida's mount, and Jove's, are seen no more;And, while aloof from Retimo she steers,Maleca foreland full in front appears.Wide o'er yon Isthmus stands the cypress grove,That once enclosed the hallow'd fane of Jove:Here, too, memorial of his name! is foundA tomb in marble ruins on the ground.This gloomy tyrant, whose despotic swayCompell'd the trembling nations to obey,Through Greece for murder, rape, and incest known,The Muses raised to high Olympus' throne;For oft, alas! their venal strains adornThe prince whom blushing virtue holds in scorn:Still Rome and Greece record his endless fame,And hence yon mountain yet retains his name.But see! in confluence borne before the blast,Clouds roll'd on clouds the dusky noon o'ercast:The blackening ocean curls, the winds arise,And the dark scud in swift succession flies.While the swoln canvas bends the masts on high,Low in the wave the leeward cannon lie.The master calls to give the ship relief,The top-sails lower, and form a single reef!Each lofty yard with slacken'd cordage reels;Rattle the creaking blocks and ringing wheels.Down the tall masts the top-sails sink amain,Are mann'd and reef'd, then hoisted up again.More distant grew receding Candia's shore,And southward of the west Cape Spado bore.Four hours the sun his high meridian throneHad left, and o'er Atlantic regions shone;Still blacker clouds, that all the skies invade,Draw o'er his sullied orb a dismal shade:A lowering squall obscures the southern sky,Before whose sweeping breath the waters fly;Its weight the top-sails can no more sustain--Reef top-sails, reef! the master calls again.The halyards and top-bow-lines soon are gone,To clue-lines and reef-tackles next they run:The shivering sails descend; the yards are square;Then quick aloft the ready crew repair:The weather-earings and the lee they past,The reefs enroll'd, and every point made fast.Their task above thus finish'd, they descend,And vigilant the approaching squall attend.It comes resistless! and with foaming sweepUpturns the whitening surface of the deep:In such a tempest, borne to deeds of death,The wayward sisters scour the blasted heath.The clouds, with ruin pregnant, now impend;And storm, and cataracts, tumultuous blend.Deep on her side the reeling vessel lies:Brail up the mizen quick! the master cries,Man the clue-garnets! let the main-sheet fly!It rends in thousand shivering shreds on high!The main-sail all in streaming ruins tore,Loud fluttering, imitates the thunder's roar:The ship still labours in the oppressive strain,Low bending, as if ne'er to rise again.Bear up the helm a-weather! Rodmond cries:Swift at the word the helm a-weather flies;She feels its guiding power, and veers apace,And now the fore-sail right athwart they brace:With equal sheets restrain'd, the bellying sailSpreads a broad concave to the sweeping gale.While o'er the foam the ship impetuous flies,The helm the attentive timoneer applies:As in pursuit along the aerial wayWith, ardent eye the falcon marks his prey,Each motion watches of the doubtful chase,Obliquely wheeling through the fluid space;So, govern'd by the steersman's glowing hands,The regent helm her motion still commands.But now the transient squall to leeward past,Again she rallies to the sullen blast:The helm to starboard moves; each shivering sailIs sharply trimm'd to clasp the augmenting gale.The mizen draws; she springs aloof once more,While the fore stay-sail balances before.The fore-sail braced obliquely to the wind,They near the prow the extended tack confined;Then on the leeward sheet the seamen bend,And haul the bow-line to the bowsprit-end.To top-sails next they haste; the bunt-lines gone!Through rattling blocks the clue-lines swiftly run;The extending sheets on either side are mann'd,Abroad they come! the fluttering sails expand;The yards again ascend each comrade mast.The leeches taught, the halyards are made fast,The bow-lines haul'd, and yards to starboard braced,And straggling ropes in pendent order placed.The main-sail, by the squall so lately rent,In streaming pendants flying, is unbent:With brails refix'd, another soon prepared,Ascending, spreads along beneath the yard.To each yard-arm the head-rope they extend,And soon their earings and their robans bend.That task perform'd, they first the braces slack,Then to the chesstree drag the unwilling tack.And, while the lee clue-garnet's lower'd away,Taught aft the sheet they tally, and belay.Now to the north from Afric's burning shore,A troop of porpoises their course explore:In curling wreaths they gambol on the tide,Now bound aloft, now down the billow glide:Their tracks awhile the hoary waves retain,That burn in sparkling trails along the main--These fleetest coursers of the finny race,When threatening clouds the ethereal vault deface,Their route to leeward still sagacious form,To shun the fury of the approaching storm.III. Fair Candia now no more, beneath her lee,Protects the vessel from the insulting sea;Round her broad arms, impatient of control,Roused from the secret deep, the billows roll:Sunk were the bulwarks of the friendly shore,And all the scene an hostile aspect wore.The flattering wind, that late with promised aidFrom Candia's bay the unwilling ship betray'd,No longer fawns beneath the fair disguise,But like a ruffian on his quarry flies.Tost on the tide she feels the tempest blow,And dreads the vengeance of so fell a foe--As the proud horse, with costly trappings gay,Exulting, prances to the bloody fray;Spurning the ground he glories in his might,But reels tumultuous in the shock of fight:Even so, caparison'd in gaudy pride,The bounding vessel dances on the tide.Fierce and more fierce the gathering tempest grew,South and by west the threatening demon blew;Auster's resistless force all air invades,And every rolling wave more ample spreads:The ship no longer can her top-sails bear;No hopes of milder weather now appear.Bow-lines and halyards are cast off again,Clue-lines haul'd down, and sheets let fly amain:Embrail'd each top-sail, and by braces squared,The seamen climb aloft, and man each yard:They furl'd the sails, and pointed to the windThe yards, by rolling tackles then confined,While o'er the ship the gallant boatswain flies;Like a hoarse mastiff through the storm he cries--Prompt to direct the unskilful still appears,The expert he praises, and the timid cheers.Now some, to strike top-gallant-yards attend,Some, travellers up the weather-back-stays send,At each mast-head the top-ropes others bend:The parrels, lifts, and clue-lines soon are gone,Topp'd and unrigg'd, they down the backstays run;The yards secure along the booms were laid,And all the flying ropes aloft belay'd:Their sails reduced, and all the rigging clear,Awhile the crew relax from toils severe;Awhile their spirits with fatigue opprest,In vain expect the alternate hour of rest--But with redoubling force the tempests blow,And watery hills in dread succession flow:A dismal shade o'ercasts the frowning skies;New troubles grow; fresh difficulties rise;No season this from duty to descend,All hands on deck must now the storm attend.His race perform'd, the sacred lamp of dayNow dipt in western clouds his parting ray!His languid fires, half lost in ambient haze,Refract along the dusk a crimson blaze;Till deep immerged the sickening orb descends,And cheerless night o'er heaven her reign extends.Sad evening's hour, how different from the past!No flaming pomp, no blushing glories cast,No ray of friendly light is seen around;The moon and stars in hopeless shade are drown'd.The ship no longer can whole courses bear,To reef them now becomes the master's care;The sailors summon'd aft all ready stand,And man the enfolding brails at his command:But here the doubtful officers dispute,Till skill and judgment prejudice confute:For Rodmond, to new methods still a foe,Would first, at all events, the sheet let go;To long-tried practice obstinately warm,He doubts conviction, and relies on form.This Albert and Arion disapprove,And first to brail the tack up firmly move:"The watchful seaman, whose sagacious eyeOn sure experience may with truth rely,Who from the reigning cause foretells the effect,This barbarous practice ever will reject;For, fluttering loose in air, the rigid sailSoon flits to ruins in the furious gale;And he, who strives the tempest to disarm,Will never first embrail the lee yard-arm."So Albert spoke; to windward, at his call,Some seamen the clue-garnet stand to haul--The tack's eased off, while the involving clueBetween the pendent blocks ascending flew;The sheet and weather-brace they now stand by,The lee clue-garnet and the bunt-lines ply:Then, all prepared, Let go the sheet! he cries--Loud rattling, jarring, through the blocks it flies!Shivering at first, till by the blast impell'd,High o'er the lee yard-arm the canvas swell'd;By spilling lines embraced, with brails confined,It lies at length unshaken by the wind.The fore-sail then secured with equal care,Again to reef the mainsail they repair;While some above the yard o'erhaul the tye,Below the down-haul tackle others ply;Jears, lifts, and brails, a seaman each attends,And down the mast its mighty yard descends:When lower'd sufficient they securely brace,And fix the rolling tackle in its place;The reef-lines and their earings now prepared,Mounting on pliant shrouds they man the yard:Far on the extremes appear two able hands,For no inferior skill this task demands--To wind, foremost, young Arion strides;The lee yard-arm the gallant boatswain rides:Each earing to its cringle first they bend,The reef-band then along the yard extend;The circling earings round the extremes entwined,By outer and by inner turns they bind;The reef-lines next from hand to hand received,Through eyelet-holes and roban-legs were reeved;The folding reefs in plaits inroll'd they lay,Extend the worming lines, and ends belay.Hadst thou, Arion! held the leeward postWhile on the yard by mountain billows tost,Perhaps oblivion o'er our tragic taleHad then for ever drawn her dusky veil;But ruling Heaven prolong'd thy vital date,Severer ills to suffer and relate.For, while aloft the order those attendTo furl the main-sail, or on deck descend;A sea, up-surging with stupendous roll,To instant ruin seems to doom the whole:O friends, secure your hold! Arion cries--It comes all dreadful! down the vessel liesHalf buried sideways; while, beneath it tost,Four seamen off the lee yard-arm are lost:Torn with resistless fury from their hold,In vain their struggling arms the yard enfold;In vain to grapple flying ropes they try,The ropes, alas! a solid gripe deny:Prone on the midnight surge with panting breathThey cry for aid, and long contend with death;High o'er their heads the rolling billows sweep,And down they sink in everlasting sleep.Bereft of power to help, their comrades seeThe wretched victims die beneath the lee;With fruitless sorrow their lost state bemoan,Perhaps a fatal prelude to their own!In dark suspense on deck the pilots stand,Nor can determine on the next command:Though still they knew the vessel's armed sideImpenetrable to the clasping tide;Though still the waters by no secret woundA passage to her deep recesses found;Surrounding evils yet they ponder o'er,A storm, a dangerous sea, and leeward shore!"Should they, though reef'd, again their sails extend,Again in shivering streamers they may rend;Or, should they stand, beneath the oppressive strain,The down-press'd ship may never rise again;Too late to weather now Morea's land,And drifting fast on Athens' rocky strand."--Thus they lament the consequence severe,Where perils unallay'd by hope appear:Long pondering in their minds each fear'd event,At last to furl the courses they consent;That done, to reef the mizen next agree,And try beneath it sidelong in the sea.Now down the mast the yard they lower away,Then jears and topping-lift secure belay;The head, with doubling canvas fenced around,In balance near the lofty peak they bound;The reef enwrapp'd, the inserting knittles tied,The halyards throat and peak are next applied--The order given, the yard aloft they sway'd,The brails relax'd, the extended sheet belay'd;The helm its post forsook, and, lash'd a-lee,Inclined the wayward prow to front the sea.IV. When sacred Orpheus on the Stygian coast,With notes divine deplored his consort lost;Though round him perils grew in fell array,And Fates and Furies stood to bar his way;Not more adventurous was the attempt to moveThe infernal powers with strains of heavenly love,Than mine, in ornamental verse to dressThe harshest sounds that terms of art express:Such arduous toil sage Dædalus enduredIn mazes, self-invented, long immured,Till genius her superior aid bestow'd,To guide him through that intricate abode--Thus, long imprison'd in a rugged wayWhere Phoebus' daughters never aim'd to stray,The Muse, that tuned to barbarous sounds her string,Now spreads, like Dædalus, a bolder wing;The verse begins in softer strains to flow,Replete with sad variety of woe.As yet, amid this elemental war,Where Desolation in his gloomy carTriumphant rages round the starless void,And Fate on every billow seems to ride;Nor toil, nor hazard, nor distress appearTo sink the seamen with unmanly fear.Though their firm hearts no pageant-honour boast,They scorn the wretch that trembles at his post;Who from the face of danger strives to turn,Indignant from the social hour they spurn:Though now full oft they felt the raging tideIn proud rebellion climb the vessel's side;Though every rising wave more dreadful grows,And in succession dire the deck o'erflows;No future ills unknown their souls appal,They know no danger, or they scorn it all:But even the generous spirits of the brave,Subdued by toil, a friendly respite crave;They, with severe fatigue alone opprest,Would fain indulge an interval of rest.Far other cares the master's mind employ;Approaching perils all his hopes destroy.In vain he spreads the graduated chart,And bounds the distance by the rules of art;Across the geometric plane expandsThe compasses to circumjacent lands:Ungrateful task! for, no asylum found,Death yawns on every leeward shore around.--While Albert thus, with horrid doubts dismay'd,The geometric distances survey'd;On deck the watchful Rodmond cries aloud,Secure your lives! grasp every man a shroud--Roused from his trance, he mounts with eyes aghast;When o'er the ship, in undulation vast,A giant surge down rushes from on high,And fore and aft dissever'd ruins lie.As when, Britannia's empire to maintain,Great Hawke descends in thunder on the main,Around the brazen voice of battle roars,And fatal lightnings blast the hostile shores;Beneath the storm their shatter'd navies groan;The trembling deep recoils from zone to zone--Thus the torn vessel felt the enormous stroke,The boats beneath the thundering deluge broke;Tom from their planks the cracking ring-bolts drew,And gripes and lashings all asunder flew;Companion, binnacle, in floating wreck,With compasses and glasses strew'd the deck;The balanced mizen, rending to the head,In fluttering fragments from its bolt-rope fled;The sides convulsive shook on groaning beams,And, rent with labour, yawn'd their pitchy seams.They sound the well, and, terrible to hear!Five feet immersed along the line appear:At either pump they ply the clanking brake,And, turn by turn, the ungrateful office take:Rodmond, Arion, and Palemon hereAt this sad task all diligent appear.As some strong citadel, begirt with foes,Tries long the tide of ruin to oppose,Destruction near her spreads his black array,And death and sorrow mark his horrid way;Till, in some destined hour, against her wallIn tenfold rage the fatal thunders fall:It breaks! it bursts before the cannonade!And following hosts the shatter'd domes invade:Her inmates long repel the hostile flood,And shield their sacred charge in streams of blood:So the brave mariners their pumps attend,And help incessant, by rotation, lend;But all in vain! for now the sounding cord,Updrawn, an undiminish'd depth explored.Nor this severe distress is found alone,The ribs opprest by ponderous cannon groan;Deep rolling from the watery volume's height,The tortured sides seem bursting with their weight--So reels Pelorus with convulsive throes,When in his veins the burning earthquake glows;Hoarse through his entrails roars the infernal flame,And central thunders rend his groaning frame--Accumulated mischiefs thus arise,And fate, vindictive, all their skill defies:For this, one remedy is only known,From the torn ship her metal must be thrown;Eventful task! which last distress requires,And dread of instant death alone inspires:For, while intent the yawning decks to ease,Fill'd ever and anon with rushing seas,Some fatal billow with recoiling sweepMay whirl the helpless wretches in the deep.No season this for counsel or delay;Too soon the eventful moments haste away!Here perseverance, with each help of art,Must join the boldest efforts of the heart:These only now their misery can relieve,These only now a dawn of safety give.While o'er the quivering deck, from van to rear,Broad surges roll in terrible career,Rodmond, Arion, and a chosen crew,This office in the face of death pursue:The wheel'd artillery o'er the deck to guide,Rodmond descending claim'd the weather-side;Fearless of heart the chief his orders gave,Fronting the rude assaults of every wave--Like some strong watch-tower nodding o'er the deep,Whose rocky base the foaming waters sweep,Untamed he stood; the stern aerial war,Had mark'd his honest face with many a scarMeanwhile Arion, traversing the waist,The cordage of the leeward guns unbraced,And pointed crows beneath the metal placed.Watching the roll, their forelocks they withdrew,And from their beds the reeling cannon threw;Then, from the windward battlements unbound,Rodmond's associates wheel'd the artillery round;Pointed with iron fangs, their bars beguileThe ponderous arms across the steep defile:Then, hurl'd from sounding hinges o'er the sideThundering they plunge into the flashing tide.The ship, thus eased, some little respite findsIn this rude conflict of the seas and winds--Such ease Alcides felt, when, clogg'd with gore,The envenom'd mantle from his side he tore;When, stung with burning pain, he strove too lateTo stop the swift career of cruel fate;Yet then his heart one ray of hope procured,Sad harbinger of sevenfold pangs endured--Such, and so short, the pause of woe she found!Cimmerian darkness shades the deep around,Save when the lightnings in terrific blazeDeluge the cheerless gloom with horrid rays:Above, all ether, fraught with scenes of woe,With grim destruction threatens all below;Beneath, the storm-lash'd surges furious rise,And wave uproll'd on wave assails the skies;With ever-floating bulwarks they surroundThe ship, half-swallow'd in the black profound.With ceaseless hazard and fatigue oppress'd,Dismay and anguish every heart possess'd;For while, with sweeping inundation, o'erThe sea-beat ship the booming waters roar,Displaced beneath by her capacious womb,They rage their ancient station to resume;By secret ambushes, their force to prove,Through many a winding channel first they rove;Till gathering fury, like the fever'd blood,Through her dark veins they roll a rapid flood:When unrelenting thus the leaks they found,The clattering pumps with clanking strokes resound;Around each leaping valve, by toil subdued,The tough bull-hide must ever be renew'd:Their sinking hearts unusual horrors chill,And down their weary limbs thick dews distil;No ray of light their dying hope redeems,Pregnant with some new woe each moment teems.Again the chief the instructive chart extends,And o'er the figured plane attentive bends;To him the motion of each orb was known,That wheels around the sun's refulgent throne.But here, alas! his science nought avails,Skill droops unequal, and experience fails.The different traverses, since twilight made.He on the hydrographic circle laid;Then, in the graduated arch contain'd,The angle of lee-way, seven points, remain'd--Her place discover'd by the rules of art,Unusual terrors shook the master's heart,When, on the immediate line of drift, he foundThe rugged isle, with rocks and breakers bound,Of Falconera; distant only nowNine lessening leagues beneath the leeward bow:For, if on those destructive shallows tost,The helpless bark with all her crew are lost:As fatal still appears, that danger o'er,The steep St George, and rocky Gardalor.With him the pilots, of their hopeless state,In mournful consultation, long debate--Not more perplexing doubts her chiefs appal,When some proud city verges to her fall,While ruin glares around, and pale affrightConvenes her councils in the dead of night.No blazon'd trophies o'er their concave spread,Nor storied pillars raised aloft their head:But here the Queen of shade around them threwHer dragon wing, disastrous to the view!Dire was the scene with whirlwind, hail, and shower;Black melancholy ruled the fearful hour:Beneath, tremendous roll'd the flashing tide,Where fate on every billow seem'd to ride--Enclosed with ills, by peril unsubdued,Great in distress the master-seaman stood!Skill'd to command; deliberate to advise;Expert in action; and in council wise--Thus to his partners, by the crew unheard,The dictates of his soul the chief referr'd:"Ye faithful mates! who all my troubles share,Approved companions of your master's care!To you, alas! 'twere fruitless now to tellOur sad distress, already known too well:This morn with favouring gales the port we left,Though now of every flattering hope bereft:No skill nor long experience could forecastThe unseen approach of this destructive blast:These seas, where storms at various seasons blow,No reigning winds nor certain omens know--The hour, the occasion, all your skill demands,A leaky ship, embay'd by dangerous lands!Our bark no transient jeopardy surrounds,Groaning she lies beneath unnumber'd wounds:'Tis ours the doubtful remedy to find,To shun the fury of the seas and wind;For in this hollow swell, with labour sore,Her flank can bear the bursting floods no more.One only shift, though desperate, we must try,And that before the boisterous storm to fly:Then less her sides will feel the surges' power,Which thus may soon the foundering hull devour.'Tis true the vessel and her costly freightTo me consign'd, my orders only wait;Yet, since the charge of every life is mine,To equal votes our counsels I resign--Forbid it, Heaven! that in this dreadful hourI claim the dangerous reins of purblind power!But should we now resolve to bear away,Our hopeless state can suffer no delay:Nor can we, thus bereft of every sail,Attempt to steer obliquely on the gale;For then, if broaching sideway to the sea,Our dropsied ship may founder by the lee;Vain all endeavours then to bear away,Nor helm, nor pilot, would she more obey."He said, the listening mates with fix'd regardAnd silent reverence his opinion heard.Important was the question in debate,And o'er their counsels hung impending fate:Rodmond, in many a scene of peril tried,Had oft the master's happier skill descried,Yet now, the hour, the scene, the occasion known,Perhaps with equal right preferr'd his own:Of long experience in the naval art,Blunt was his speech and naked was his heart;Alike to him each climate, and each blast,The first in danger, in retreat the last:Sagacious, balancing the opposed events,From Albert his opinion thus dissents:--"Too true the perils of the present hour,Where toils succeeding toils our strength o'erpower!Our bark, 'tis true, no shelter here can find,Sore shatter'd by the ruffian seas and wind:Yet where with safety can we dare to scudBefore this tempest and pursuing flood?At random driven, to present death we haste,And one short hour perhaps may be our last.Though Corinth's gulf extend along the lee,To whose safe ports appears a passage free,Yet think! this furious unremitting galeDeprives the ship of every ruling sail;And if before it she directly flies,New ills enclose us, and new dangers rise:Here Falconera spreads her lurking snares,There distant Greece her rugged shelves prepares:Our hull, if once it strikes that iron coast,Asunder bursts, in instant ruin lost;Nor she alone, but with her all the crew,Beyond relief, are doom'd to perish too:Such mischiefs follow if we bear away;O safer that sad refuge--to delay!"Then of our purpose this appears the scope,To weigh the danger with the doubtful hope:Though sorely buffeted by every sea,Our hull unbroken long may try a-lee;The crew, though harass'd much with toils severe,Still at their pumps, perceive no hazards near:Shall we, incautious, then the danger tell,At once their courage and their hope to quell?Prudence forbids! this southern tempest soonMay change its quarter with the changing moon;Its rage, though terrible, may soon subside,Nor into mountains lash the unruly tide;These leaks shall then decrease--the sails once moreDirect our course to some relieving shore."Thus while he spoke, around from man to manAt either pump a hollow murmur ran;For, while the vessel through unnumber'd chinks,Above, below, the invading water drinks,Sounding her depth they eyed the wetted scale,And lo! the leaks o'er all their powers prevail:Yet at their post, by terrors unsubdued,They with redoubling force their task pursued.And now the senior pilots seem'd to waitArion's voice, to close the dark debate.Not o'er his vernal life the ripening sunHad yet progressive twice ten summers run;Slow to debate, yet eager to excel,In thy sad school, stern Neptune! taught too well:With lasting pain to rend his youthful heart,Dire fate in venom dipp'd her keenest dart;Till his firm spirit, temper'd long to ill,Forgot her persecuting scourge to feel;But now the horrors, that around him roll,Thus rouse to action his rekindling soul:"Can we, delay'd in this tremendous tide,A moment pause what purpose to decide?Alas! from circling horrors thus combined,One method of relief alone we find:Thus water-logg'd, thus helpless to remainAmid this hollow, how ill judged! how vain!Our sea-breach'd vessel can no longer bearThe floods that o'er her burst in dread career;The labouring hull already seems half-fill'dWith water through a hundred leaks distill'd;Thus drench'd by every wave, her riven deck,Stript and defenceless, floats a naked wreck;At every pitch the o'erwhelming billows bendBeneath their load the quivering bowsprit's end;A fearful warning! since the masts on highOn that support with trembling hope rely;At either pump our seamen pant for breath,In dire dismay anticipating death;Still all our powers the increasing leaks defy,We sink at sea, no shore, no haven nigh.One dawn of hope yet breaks athwart the gloom,To light and save us from a watery tomb;That bids us shun the death impending here,Fly from the following blast, and shoreward steer."'Tis urged indeed, the fury of the galePrecludes the help of every guiding sail;And, driven before it on the watery waste,To rocky shores and scenes of death we haste;But haply Falconera we may shun,And long to Grecian coasts is yet the run:Less harass'd then, our scudding ship may bearThe assaulting surge repell'd upon her rear;And since as soon that tempest may decayWhen steering shoreward--wherefore thus delay?Should we at last be driven by dire decreeToo near the fatal margin of the sea,The hull dismasted there awhile may rideWith lengthen'd cables, on the raging tide;Perhaps kind Heaven, with interposing power,May curb the tempest ere that dreadful hour;But here, ingulf'd and foundering, while we stay,Fate hovers o'er, and marks us for her prey."He said: Palemon saw with grief of heartThe storm prevailing o'er the pilot's art;In silent terror and distress involved,He heard their last alternative resolved:High beat his bosom. With such fear subdued,Beneath the gloom of some enchanted wood,Oft in old time the wandering swain exploredThe midnight wizards' breathing rites abhorr'd;Trembling, approach'd their incantations fell,And, chill'd with horror, heard the songs of hell.Arion saw, with secret anguish moved,The deep affliction, of the friend he loved,And, all awake to friendship's genial heat,His bosom felt consenting tremors beat:Alas! no season this for tender love,Far hence the music of the myrtle grove--He tried with soft persuasion's melting lorePalemon's fainting courage to restore;His wounded spirit heal'd with friendship's balm,And bade each conflict of the mind be calm.Now had the pilots all the events revolved,And on their final refuge thus resolved--When, like the faithful shepherd who beholdsSome prowling wolf approach his fleecy folds,To the brave crew, whom racking doubts perplex,The dreadful purpose Albert thus directs:"Unhappy partners in a wayward fate!Whose courage now is known perhaps too late;Ye! who unmoved behold this angry stormIn conflict all the rolling deep deform:Who, patient in adversity, still bearThe firmest front when greatest ills are near;The truth, though painful, I must now reveal,That long in vain I purposed to conceal:Ingulf'd, all help of art we vainly try,To weather leeward shores, alas! too nigh:Our crazy bark no longer can abideThe seas, that thunder o'er her batter'd side:And while the leaks a fatal warning giveThat in this raging sea she cannot live,One only refuge from despair we find--At once to wear, and scud before the wind.Perhaps even then to ruin we may steer,For rocky shores beneath our lee appear;But that's remote, and instant death is here:Yet there, by Heaven's assistance, we may gainSome creek or inlet of the Grecian main;Or, shelter'd by some rock, at anchor rideTill with abating rage the blast subside:But if, determined by the will of Heaven,Our helpless bark at last ashore is driven,These councils, follow'd, from a watery graveOur crew perhaps amid the surf may save:--"And first, let all our axes be secured,To cut the masts and rigging from aboard;Then to the quarters bind each plank and oar,To float between the vessel and the shore:The longest cordage too must be convey'dOn deck, and to the weather-rails belay'd:So they who haply reach alive the land,The extended lines may fasten on the strand,Whene'er, loud thundering on the leeward shore,While yet aloof, we hear the breakers roarThus for the terrible event prepared,Brace fore and aft to starboard every yard;So shall our masts swim lighter on the wave,And from the broken rocks our seamen save;Then westward turn the stem, that every mastMay shoreward fall as from the vessel cast.When o'er her side once more the billows bound,Ascend the rigging till she strikes the ground;And, when you hear aloft the dreadful shockThat strikes her bottom on some pointed rock,The boldest of our sailors must descend,The dangerous business of the deck to tend:Then burst the hatches off, and every stayAnd every fastening laniard cut away;Planks, gratings, booms, and rafts to leeward cast;Then with redoubled strokes attack each mast,That buoyant lumber may sustain you o'erThe rocky shelves and ledges to the shore:But, as your firmest succour, till the lastO cling securely on each faithful mast!Though great the danger, and the task severe,Yet bow not to the tyranny of fear;If once that slavish yoke your souls subdue,Adieu to hope! to life itself adieu!"I know among you some have oft beheldA bloodhound train, by rapine's lust impell'd,On England's cruel coast impatient stand,To rob the wanderers wreck'd upon their strand!These, while their savage office they pursue,Oft wound to death the helpless plunder'd crew,Who, 'scaped from every horror of the main,Implored their mercy, but implored in vain:Yet dread not this, a crime to Greece unknown,Such bloodhounds all her circling shores disown;Who, though by barbarous tyranny oppress'd,Can share affliction with the wretch distress'd:Their hearts, by cruel fate inured to grief,Oft to the friendless stranger yield relief."With conscious horror struck, the naval bandDetested for a while their native land;They cursed the sleeping vengeance of the laws,That thus forgot her guardian sailors' cause.Meanwhile the master's voice again they heard,Whom, as with filial duty, all revered:"No more remains--but now a trusty bandMust ever at the pumps industrious stand;And, while with us the rest attend to wear,Two skilful seamen to the helm repair--And thou, Eternal Power! whose awful swayThe storms revere, and roaring seas obey!On thy supreme assistance we rely;Thy mercy supplicate, if doom'd to die!Perhaps this storm is sent with healing breathFrom neighbouring shores to scourge disease and death:'Tis ours on thine unerring laws to trust;With thee, great Lord! 'whatever is, is just.'"He said: and, with consenting reverence fraught,The sailors join'd his prayer in silent thought:His intellectual eye, serenely bright,Saw distant objects with prophetic light.Thus, in a land that lasting wars oppress,That groans beneath misfortune and distress;Whose wealth to conquering armies falls a prey,Till all her vigour, pride, and fame decay;Some bold sagacious statesman, from the helm,Sees desolation gathering o'er his realm;He darts around his penetrating eyesWhere dangers grow, and hostile unions rise;With deep attention marks the invading foe,Eludes their wiles and frustrates every blow,Tries his last art the tottering state to save,Or in its ruins find a glorious grave.Still in the yawning trough the vessel reels,Ingulf'd beneath two fluctuating hills;On either side they rise, tremendous scene!A long dark melancholy vale between:The balanced ship, now forward, now behind,Still felt the impression of the waves and wind,And to the right and left by turns inclined;But Albert from behind the balance drew,And on the prow its double efforts threw,The order now was given to bear away!The order given, the timoneers obey:Both stay-sail sheets to mid-ships were convey'd,And round the foremast on each side belay'd:Thus ready, to the halyards they apply--They hoist! away the flitting ruins fly:Yet Albert new resources still prepares,Conceals his grief, and doubles all his cares--"Away there! lower the mizen-yard on deck,"He calls, "and brace the foremost yards aback!"His great example every bosom fires,New life rekindles and new hope inspires:While to the helm unfaithful still she lies,One desperate remedy at last he tries--"Haste! with your weapons cut the shrouds and stay,And hew at once the mizen-mast away!"He said: to cut the girding stay they run,Soon on each side the sever'd shrouds are gone:Fast by the fated pine bold Rodmond stands,The impatient axe hung gleaming in his hands;Brandish'd on high, it fell with dreadful sound,The tall mast, groaning, felt the deadly wound;Deep gash'd beneath, the tottering structure rings,And crashing, thundering, o'er the quarter swings.Thus, when some limb, convulsed with pangs of death,Imbibes the gangrene's pestilential breath,The experienced artist from the blood betraysThe latent venom, or its course delays;But if the infection triumphs o'er his art,Tainting the vital stream that warms the heart,To stop the course of death's inflaming tides,The infected member from the trunk divides.