And to their chariot-wheels the groaning captive chained!
But the self-exiled Britons, who behind
Left Transatlantic luxuries, and gave
Their parting salutations to the wind,
And, scorning the vile languor of the slave,
Rocked with the little May Flower on the wave,
To immortality have prouder claim:
Let the bright Muse of History engrave
Their names in fadeless characters of flame,
And give their wondrous tale an everlasting fame!