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Confusion reigns mid such alarms,To give up life with all its charms;To sink in death's cold icy arms,With terror must be fraught.
On that frail bark one sparkling gemOutshines the costly diadem;No royal blood, compared with himIs worth a transient thought.
The heavens were lit, the lightnings gleam,And round their ship a fiery stream;The ocean yawned—a fearful scream—She sank beneath the wave.
The omen bird now flaps its wingsAnd tidings from the ocean bringsO! who can touch the trembling stringsOr chaunt the funeral dirge.
Oregon Spectator, October 18, 1849.
