Their friends persuade them, “Do depart, we pray!” }
They will not, must not, cannot go away, }
But chill’d with icy fear, for certain tidings stay. }
And now again there must a boat be seen—
Men run together! It must something mean!
Some figure moves upon the [oozy] bound, 270
Where flows the tide—Oh! what can he have found—
What lost? And who is he?—The only one
Of the loved three—the Captain’s younger son.
Their boat was fill’d and sank—He knows no more,