A sail! How looks she in the dark?

“Bravely! She is a royal barque!”

Give thanks! Hurrah! I ween the wave

Before the morn shall be her grave!

Out with the guns!—“Ho, sir! she veers!⁠—

Again! again! Hurrah! she nears!”

She came so nigh, that we could see

The pilot’s lonely ministry.

Sudden as lightning from its lair

Fire glowed around her deck;⁠—