Begarb themselves, display their pow’r,
And revel on, as yesterday.
The cabin deck-light pane is bright,
Which tells them ’tis a cheery morn;
(They do not dream—that ere ’tis night,
Not even one shall live to mourn! * * *)
Good Zephyrus[9] speeds the ship along,
She heeds it—lovingly she bows;
The sailors raise their bowline-song,
And smiles adorn their iron brows.