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308

THE VETERAN TAR.

I

A mariner, whom fate compell'd
To make his home ashore,
Lived in yon cottage on the mount,
With ivy mantled o'er;
Because he could not breathe beyond
The sound of ocean's roar.

II

He placed yon vane upon the roof
To mark how stood the wind;
For breathless days and breezy days
Brought back old times to mind,
When rock'd amid the shrouds, or on
The sunny deck reclined.
309

III

And in his spot of garden ground
All ocean plants were met—
Salt lavender, that lacks perfume,
With scented mignonette;
And, blending with the roses' bloom,
Sea-thistles freak'd with jet.

IV

Models of cannon'd ships of war,
Rigg'd out in gallant style;
Pictures of Camperdown's red fight,
And Nelson at the Nile,
Were round his cabin hung,—his hours,
When lonely, to beguile.

V

And there were charts and soundings, made
By Anson, Cook, and Bligh;
Fractures of coral from the deep,
And storm-stones from the sky;
Shells from the shores of gay Brazil;
Stuff'd birds, and fishes dry.
310

VI

Old Simon had an orphan been,
No relative had he;
Even from his childhood was he seen
A haunter of the quay;
So, at the age of raw thirteen,
He took him to the sea.

VII

Four years on board a merchantman
He sail'd—a growing lad;
And all the isles of western Ind,
In endless summer clad,
He knew, from pastoral St Lucie,
To palmy Trinidad.

VIII

But sterner life was in his thoughts,
When, 'mid the sea-fight's jar,
Stoop'd Victory from the batter'd shrouds,
To crown the British tar;
'Twas then he went, a volunteer,
On board a ship of war.
311

IX

Through forty years of storm and shine
He plough'd the changeful deep;
From where beneath the tropic line
The winged fishes leap,
To where frost seals the Polar seas
In everlasting sleep.

X

I recollect the brave old man:
Methinks upon my view
He comes again—his varnish'd hat,
Striped shirt, and jacket blue;
His bronzed and weather-beaten cheek,
Keen eye, and plaited queue.

XI

Yon turfen bench the veteran loved,
Beneath the threshold tree;
For from that spot he could survey
The broad expanse of sea—
That element, where he so long
Had been a rover free.
312

XII

And lighted up his faded face,
When, drifting in the gale,
He with his telescope could catch,
Far off, a coming sail:
It was a music to his ear,
To list the sea-mew's wail.

XIII

Oft would he tell how, under Smith,
Upon the Egyptian strand,
Eager to beat the boastful French,
They join'd the men on land,
And plied their deadly shots, intrench'd
Behind their bags of sand.

XIV

And when he told, how, thro' the Sound,
With Nelson in his might,
They pass'd the Cronberg batteries,
To quell the Dane in fight,
His voice with vigour fill'd again,
His veteran eye with light.
313

XV

But chiefly of hot Trafalgar
The brave old man would speak;
And, when he show'd his oaken stump,
A glow suffused his cheek,
While his eye fill'd—for wound on wound
Had left him worn and weak.

XVI

Ten years, in vigorous old age,
Within that cot he dwelt;
Tranquil as falls the snow on snow,
Life's lot to him was dealt:
But came infirmity at length,
And slowly o'er him stealt.

XVII

We miss'd him on our seaward walk:
The children went no more
To listen to his evening talk,
Beside the cottage door;
Grim palsy held him to the bed,
Which health eschew'd before.
314

XVIII

'Twas harvest time: day after day
Beheld him weaker grow;
Day after day, his labouring pulse
Became more faint and slow;
For, in the chambers of his heart,
Life's fire was burning low.

XIX

Thus did he weaken, did he wane,
Till frail as frail could be;
But duly at the hour which brings
Homeward the bird and bee,
He made them prop him in his couch,
To gaze upon the sea.

XX

And now he watch'd the moving boat,
And now the moveless ships,
And now the western hills remote,
With gold upon their tips,
As ray by ray the mighty sun
Went down in calm eclipse.
315

XXI

Welcome as homestead to the feet
Of pilgrim travel-tired,
Death to old Simon's dwelling came,
A thing to be desired;
And, breathing peace to all around,
The man of war expired.
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