Through Hell Gate’s narrow pass
He steered his ship, alas!
A ship no more than glass
In that fierce current!—
Among the ragged rocks,
With many thundering shocks,
The blood-stained cruiser blocks
The deep, Plutonian torrent!

His daughter Leonore
Alone did reach the shore,
The rest were nevermore
Beheld on this bright planet!—
For them no more shall blow
The winds where spices grow,—
Their flag trails down below
Where breeze shall never fan it!

Their eyes have turned to stone,
That oft in battle shone;—
Their hair to sea-kelp grown,
’Neath wind and wave’s commotion,
Shall stream no more to breeze
Across the Arctic seas,
Or blue Symplegades
Damp with the spray of ocean.

The Pirate’s daughter lay
On yonder rock till day,
When from the Lower Bay
Sailed hither a cruiser,
On which a young King came,
Whose heart was set aflame
(Which no fond maid will blame)
While trying to amuse her!

On board the royal craft,
The maiden wept and laughed,
By turns, like one that’s daft,
With grief and joy o’erweighted;
While (always at her side)
The kingly sailor’s pride
Grew fainter, till it died,
In Beauty’s glory fated!—

Fair islands of the sea
Were his—as she must be—
He said, in playful glee,
And threw a necklace o’er her!
Then on his noble breast
She laid her head to rest,
Though half afraid to test
The golden dream before her!

No woman’s heart will deign
To question more,—’twere vain;—
The lands of Deloraine
Were hers forevermore!
And there the orange grew,
And buds of fragrance blew,
And birds of brightness flew,
And loved was Leonore!

And there—worth all the rest—
Her children—loved—caressed—
Imbibed their mother’s quest
To bless and be a blessing;—
And so she reigned in them
Till Life became a gem
(More prized than diadem),
Loved more for Love’s caressing!

In all her life there came
But one dark fate—the same
That gave her name to Fame,
Her father to the torrent,
Where lie grim wrecks of Hope—
And skeletons darkly grope
’Mong ships without a rope
Beneath the surging current!

Thus, Innocence alone
Survived—to reach a throne;
Her crown, the richest stone
That e’er with gold was blended!—
Long has her virtuous sway,
Like sunshine, passed away—
And so I pause to say,
The Corsair’s tale is ended!