184
MARITORNE; OR, THE PIRATE OF MEXICO.
Grasps the half-loosened manacles again,
And adds, unseen, fresh links to slavery's chain;
Hated full deeply, dreaded and abhorred,
The Pirate Chief, the haughty island lord.
And cause enough, deep hidden in his breast,
Had he, the moody leader of the West,
To hate that fearful man, who stood alone
Feared, dreaded, and detested, though unknown.
That cause was smothered or burst forth to light,
Wreathed in the incense of a patriot's right,
To drive the bold intruder from the shore,
Where war and bloodshed must appear no more;
But deep within his heart the crater glowed
From whence this gilded stream of lava flowed;
'Twas wounded pride, which, writhing inly, bled,
And called for vengeance on the offender's head;
For Maritorne, with bold, unbending brow,
Had scorned his power—that were enough; but lo!
There on the very threshold of his home,
There had the traitor Pirate dared to come,
And thence had borne his own, his only child,
Mate all unfit for Maritorne the wild;
And when the maiden cursed him in her breast,
Those curses came not o'er him,—he was blest:
For but to gaze upon her, and to feel
That she whom he adored was near him still,
Was bliss! was heaven itself! and he whose eye
Bent not to aught of dull mortality,
Shrunk with a tremulous delight whene'er
The voice of Laura rose upon his ear;
That voice had power to quell the fiend within,
Whose touch had turned his very soul to sin.
And adds, unseen, fresh links to slavery's chain;
Hated full deeply, dreaded and abhorred,
The Pirate Chief, the haughty island lord.
And cause enough, deep hidden in his breast,
Had he, the moody leader of the West,
To hate that fearful man, who stood alone
Feared, dreaded, and detested, though unknown.
That cause was smothered or burst forth to light,
Wreathed in the incense of a patriot's right,
To drive the bold intruder from the shore,
Where war and bloodshed must appear no more;
But deep within his heart the crater glowed
From whence this gilded stream of lava flowed;
'Twas wounded pride, which, writhing inly, bled,
And called for vengeance on the offender's head;
For Maritorne, with bold, unbending brow,
Had scorned his power—that were enough; but lo!
There on the very threshold of his home,
There had the traitor Pirate dared to come,
And thence had borne his own, his only child,
Mate all unfit for Maritorne the wild;
And when the maiden cursed him in her breast,
Those curses came not o'er him,—he was blest:
For but to gaze upon her, and to feel
That she whom he adored was near him still,
Was bliss! was heaven itself! and he whose eye
Bent not to aught of dull mortality,
Shrunk with a tremulous delight whene'er
The voice of Laura rose upon his ear;
That voice had power to quell the fiend within,
Whose touch had turned his very soul to sin.
