⎧
⎨
⎩
"From these dire shores our rapid course we held;
Auspicious gales the flying canvas swell'd;
And joy's faint sunshine kindled in my eyes,
As the last mountain mingled with the skies:
When, by conflicting winds together driven,
A night of clouds involved the starless heaven;
Fierce and more fierce th' increasing tempest blew,
The thunder rattled, and the lightning flew.
Soon, borne at random o'er the watery way,
The yawning rocks our guideless ship betray;
My shrieking comrades sink.—Some power unseen
Preserved me, trembling, thro' the deathful scene;
I rode th' opposing waves, and from the steep
Beheld the vessel plunge into the flashing deep.
"Beneath a sheltering wood all night I lay,
'Till morn had chased the flying stars away;
Then sought the wave-worn strand.—The storm was dead;
And Silence o'er the deep her pinions spread.
All—all were gone!—I saw my doom severe;
And, dull with suffering, scarcely dropp'd a tear!
"There, by the murmurs of the sea's hoarse wave,
Scorch'd on the rock, or shivering in the cave,
Long, long I stay'd: Fate yet prolong'd my day,
And Grief and Famine spared their willing prey.
A roving bark at length approach'd, and bore
The suppliant stranger to fair India's shore.
"With wondering steps I traced the sunny strand,
And mark'd each giant work of nature's hand;
Saw towering oaks th' aërial tempest brave,
And mighty rivers roll the sea-like wave.
Amaze, unmix'd with joy, my soul possess'd;
What beauteous scene can charm an Exile's breast?
Sadly I saw primeval forests frown,
And, in each foreign stream, still sought my own.
"No bright success my rising labours crown'd;
The sunbeam wither'd, or the deluge drown'd,
Each growing hope: my frame seem'd worn with care,
And Death still hover'd in the feverish air.
Stern Famine o'er my solitary gate
Spread her cold wings, and watch'd in sullen state.
Life yet was dear—Each visionary night
Restored my ancient dwelling to my sight;
And every gale, that swept the valley o'er,
Appear'd to point me to my native shore.
"Soon as the morning waved her banner red,
With bounding heart the winged sail I spread.
Again the tempest roars, the meteors play,
And struggling clouds repel the rising ray.
Yet nought disturb'd my unprophetic soul;
Resign'd to joy, impatient of control,
I seem'd new-born: Creative Hope again
Restored the sense of pleasure, and of pain;
Tumultuous transport, now no more suppressed,
Shone from my eyes, and wanton'd in my breast.
"Soon did the storm subside: before the breeze
Smooth flew the boat, across the summer seas.
The brightening sunbeam on the waters danced,
From the blue clouds a stream of radiance glanced.