| |
| WE had sailed out a Letter of Marque, | |
| Fourteen guns and forty men; | |
| And a costly freight our gallant barque | |
| Was bearing home again. | |
| We had ranged the seas the whole summer-tide, | 5 |
| Crossed the main, and returned once more; | |
| Our sails were spread, and from the mast-head | |
| The lookout saw the distant shore. | |
| |
| “A sail! a sail on the weather bow! | |
| Hand over hand, ten knots an hour!” | 10 |
| “Now God defend it ever should end | |
| That we should fall in the foeman’s power!” | |
| |
| ’T was an English frigate came bearing down, | |
| Bearing down before the gale, | |
| Riding the waves that sent their spray | 15 |
| Dashing madly o’er mast and sail. | |
| |
| Every stitch of our canvas set, | |
| Like a frightened bird our good barque flew; | |
| The wild waves lashed and the foam crests dashed, | |
| As we threaded the billows through. | 20 |
| The night came down on the waters wide,— | |
| “By Heaven’s help we ’ll see home once more,” | |
| Our captain cried, “for nor-nor-west | |
| Lies Cape Cod Light, and the good old shore.” | |
| |
| A sudden flash, and a sullen roar | 25 |
| Booming over the stormy sea, | |
| Showed the frigate close on our track,— | |
| How could we hope her grasp to flee? | |
| Our angry gunner the stern-chaser fired; | |
| I hardly think they heard the sound, | 30 |
| The billows so wildly roared and raged, | |
| As we forward plunged with furious bound. | |
| |
| “All our prizes safely in, | |
| Shall we fall a prize to-night? | |
| The Shoal of George’s lies sou-south-east, | 35 |
| Bearing away from Cape Cod Light.” | |
| Our captain’s face grew dark and stern, | |
| Deadly white his closed lips were. | |
| The men looked in each other’s eyes,— | |
| Not a look that spoke of fear. | 40 |
“Hard up!”
Hard up the helm was jammed. | |
| The wary steersman spoke no word. | |
| In the roar of the breakers on either side | |
| Murmurs of wonder died unheard. | |
| Loud and clear rose the captain’s voice,— | 45 |
| A bronzed old sea-dog, calm and cool, | |
| He had been in sea-fights oft, | |
| Trained eye and hand in danger’s school. | |
“Heave the lead!”
The lead was hove; | |
| Sharp and short the quick reply; | 50 |
| Steady rose the captain’s voice, | |
| Dark fire glowed his swarthy eye, | |
| Right on the Shoal of George’s steered, | |
| Urged with wild, impetuous force, | |
| Lost, if on either side we veered | 55 |
| But a hand’s breadth from our course. | |
| On and on our good barque drove, | |
| Leaping like mad from wave to wave, | |
| Hissing and roaring ’round her bow, | |
| Hounding her on to a yawning grave. | 60 |
| |
| God! ’t was a desperate game we played! | |
| White as the combing wave grew each cheek; | |
| Our hearts in that moment dumbly prayed, | |
| For never a word might our blenched lips speak. | |
| On and on the frigate drove, | 65 |
| Right in our track, close bearing down; | |
| Our captain’s face was still and stern, | |
| Every muscle too rigid to frown. | |
| |
| On and on the frigate drove, | |
| Swooping down in her glorious pride; | 70 |
| Lord of heaven! what a shriek was that | |
| Ringing over the waters wide! | |
| Striking swift on the sunken rocks, | |
| Down went the frigate beneath the wave; | |
| All her crew in an instant sunk, | 75 |
| Gulfed in the closing grave! | |
| |
| We were alone on the rolling sea; | |
| Man looked to man with a silent pain; | |
| Sternly our captain turned away; | |
| Our helmsman bore on our course again. | 80 |
| Into the harbor we safely sailed | |
| When the red morn glowed o’er the bay: | |
| The sinking ship, and the wild death-cry, | |
| We shall see and hear, to our dying day. | |
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