Death shall be deem’d misfortune’s mildest form.
“Lo! where my victim comes!—of noble birth,
Of cultured genius, and exalted worth,
With her,[287] his best beloved, in all her charms,
Pride of his heart, and treasure of his arms!
From foaming waves, from raging winds they fly,
Spared for revenge, reserved for agony!
Oh! dark the fate that calls them from their home,
On this rude shore, my savage reign, to roam,