Her fair companions one and all,
Rejoicing crowd the strand;
For now her lover swam in call,
And almost touch'd the land.40
Then through the white surf did she haste,
To clasp her lovely swain;
When, ah! a shark bit through his waste:
His heart's blood dy'd the main!
He shriek'd! his half sprang from the wave,45
Streaming with purple gore,
And soon it found a living grave,
And ah! was seen no more.
Now haste, now haste, ye maids, I pray,
Fetch water from the spring:50
She falls, she swoons, she dies away,
And soon her knell they ring.
Now each May morning round her tomb
Ye fair, fresh flowerets strew,
So may your lovers scape his doom,55
Her hapless fate scape you.
FOOTNOTES:
[1025] Author of a poem on the Culture of the Sugar-Cane, &c.
[1026] So in p. [235], it should be, Turn'd her magic ray.