Though the moments had seemed to the dancers so frightened,
Like so many hours, yet their hearts were so lightened
With hope, that they took the bed-slats and rowed on
With a strange, nervous strength that seemed hardly their own,
After all of the trials through which they had gone,
And the dauntless bass-fiddler rowed swiftly the “John,”
To help them to land near the dancers’ own town,
Where some cried, and some danced with the crowds that came down,
And many gave thanks with a quivering lip—
They were safe! They were safe! from the perilous trip.