 | The American common-place book of poetry |  |
Return of the Buccaneer.—Richard H. Dana.
Within our bay, one stormy night,
The isle's men saw boats make for shore,
With here and there a dancing light
That flashed on man and oar.
When hailed, the rowing stopt, and all was dark.
“Ha! lantern work!—We'll home! They're playing shark!”
The isle's men saw boats make for shore,
With here and there a dancing light
That flashed on man and oar.
When hailed, the rowing stopt, and all was dark.
“Ha! lantern work!—We'll home! They're playing shark!”
Next day, at noon, towards the town,
All stared and wondered much to see
Matt and his men come strolling down.
The boys shout, “Here comes Lee!”
“Thy ship, good Lee?” “Not many leagues from shore
Our ship by chance took fire.”—They learnt no more.
All stared and wondered much to see
Matt and his men come strolling down.
The boys shout, “Here comes Lee!”
“Thy ship, good Lee?” “Not many leagues from shore
Our ship by chance took fire.”—They learnt no more.
He and his crew were flush of gold.
“You did not lose your cargo, then?”
“Learn where all's fairly bought and sold.”
Heaven prospers those true men.
Forsake your evil ways, as we forsook
Our ways of sin, and honest courses took!
“You did not lose your cargo, then?”
“Learn where all's fairly bought and sold.”
Heaven prospers those true men.
Forsake your evil ways, as we forsook
Our ways of sin, and honest courses took!
“Wouldst see my log-book? Fairly writ,
With pen of steel, and ink like blood!
How lightly doth the conscience sit!
Learn, truth's the only good.”
And thus, with flout, and cold and impious jeer,
He fled repentance, if he 'scaped not fear.
With pen of steel, and ink like blood!
How lightly doth the conscience sit!
Learn, truth's the only good.”
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He fled repentance, if he 'scaped not fear.
Remorse and fear he drowns in drink.
“Come, pass the bowl, my jolly crew
It thicks the blood to mope and think.
Here's merry days, though few!”
And then he quaffs.—So riot reigns within;
So brawl and laughter shake that house of sin.
“Come, pass the bowl, my jolly crew
It thicks the blood to mope and think.
Here's merry days, though few!”
And then he quaffs.—So riot reigns within;
So brawl and laughter shake that house of sin.
Matt lords it now throughout the isle.
His hand falls heavier than before.
All dread alike his frown or smile.
None come within his door,
Save those who dipped their hands in blood with him;
Save those who laughed to see the white horse swim.
His hand falls heavier than before.
All dread alike his frown or smile.
None come within his door,
Save those who dipped their hands in blood with him;
Save those who laughed to see the white horse swim.
| The American common-place book of poetry | |