MARITORNE; OR, THE PIRATE OF MEXICO.
191
Which vulgar minds might think were richly worth
A life of bloodshed and dishonor? No!
They read not right who read yon pirate so;
The plash of troubled waters, and the sound
Of moving vessels grating o'er the ground,
The quick low hum of voices, the faint gush
Of light waves gurgling as with sudden rush
They feebly kissed the bark, then sunk away,
As half-repenting them such welcome gay,
Were caught, perchance, by some lone fisher's ear,
Who plied his line or net at midnight here;
Perhaps he started from his drowsy mood,
And tossed his bait still further down the flood;
But be that as it may, 'twas heard 'no more,
And listning silence hovered o'er the shore.
And yonder fire the battle sign is beaming,
Far o'er the dusky waters redly streaming,
The shadow of the Pirate-ship lies there,
Its banners feebly dancing in the air;
Its broad sails veering idly to and fro,
Now glitt'ring 'neath the full moon's silver glow,
Now black'ning in the shade of night's dull frown;
'Twas like its Chief, in silence and alone,
Gazing upon the shadow which it cast
O'er every rippling wave which gently passed.
And such had been his joyless, gloomy lot,
Forgetting all mankind, by all forgot,
Save that accursed one whose blasting eye
Was glaring on him,—'twas in vain to fly
While vengeance whispered curses in his ear,
And thought, the demon thought, received them there,
A life of bloodshed and dishonor? No!
They read not right who read yon pirate so;
The plash of troubled waters, and the sound
Of moving vessels grating o'er the ground,
The quick low hum of voices, the faint gush
Of light waves gurgling as with sudden rush
They feebly kissed the bark, then sunk away,
As half-repenting them such welcome gay,
Were caught, perchance, by some lone fisher's ear,
Who plied his line or net at midnight here;
Perhaps he started from his drowsy mood,
And tossed his bait still further down the flood;
But be that as it may, 'twas heard 'no more,
And listning silence hovered o'er the shore.
And yonder fire the battle sign is beaming,
Far o'er the dusky waters redly streaming,
The shadow of the Pirate-ship lies there,
Its banners feebly dancing in the air;
Its broad sails veering idly to and fro,
Now glitt'ring 'neath the full moon's silver glow,
Now black'ning in the shade of night's dull frown;
'Twas like its Chief, in silence and alone,
Gazing upon the shadow which it cast
O'er every rippling wave which gently passed.
And such had been his joyless, gloomy lot,
Forgetting all mankind, by all forgot,
Save that accursed one whose blasting eye
Was glaring on him,—'twas in vain to fly
While vengeance whispered curses in his ear,
And thought, the demon thought, received them there,
