Then go, Ingrate, far o’er the ocean go,
Consign your friend, your child to endless woe!
Renounce us! hate us! pleased, your course pursue,
And break their hearts who lived alone for you!”
His eyes, which flash’d red fire—his arms spread wide,
Her child raised high to heaven—too plain implied,
Such were his thoughts, though nature speech denied.
And now with eager glance the deep he view’d,
And now the barge with savage howl pursued;
Then to his lips his infant wildly press’d,