So will the happy time arrive
When coming home, if then alive,
You'll see them to the devil drive.
[166] From the 1815 edition.
STANZAS[167]
Written in Blackbeard's, the Pirate's, Castle, near the Town of St. Thomas, in the West Indies.—1799
The ancient knave, who raised these walls,
Now to oblivion half resign'd—
His fortress to the mind recalls
The nerve that stimulates mankind;
When savage force exerts its part
And ruffian blood commands the heart.
This pirate, known to former days,
The scourge of these unhappy climes,
In this strong fabric thought to raise
A monument to future times:
To guard himself and guard his gold,
Or shelter robbers, uncontrol'd.
A standard on these walls he rear'd,
And here he swore the oath profane,
That by his god, and by his beard,
Sole, independent, he would reign;
And do his best to crush the sway
Of legal right and honesty.
Within these walls, and in these vaults,
Of princely power and wealth possess'd,
Dominion hung on all his thoughts,
And here he hoped an age of rest;
The wealth of princes flowing in
That from the Spaniards he did win.
He many a chief and captain awed,
Or chain'd with fetters, foot and hand;
Uncheck'd, his fleets he sent abroad,
Commission gave, conferr'd command;
And if his sailors skulk'd or fled,
He made them shorter—by a head.