THE FORESTERS. 60 



And our frail bark, deep dashing labored through ; 



Our blanket-sail, and feeble sapling mast, 



Drank the rough waves, and quivered in the blast, 



A friendly sloop for Queenstown(49) harbor bound, 



While night's foul hurricanes were gathering round, 



Beheld our danger, saw our numbers few, 



And for our boat received its willing crew ; 



Both safe on board they trim their thundering sail, 



The boom and main-sheet bending to the gale. 



Hard by the helm th' experienced master stood, 



And, far to windward, eyed the whitening flood, 



Saw in the east the coming tempest lour, 



On night's black wings impetuous to devour! (50) 



Her roaring bow the boiling spray divides, 



Two foaming torrents sweep along the sides, 



Reef after reef retrench the strainino- sail, 



And the racked vessel stagers in the gale ; 



Now up th' outrageous wave's high steep we go, 



Now plunge down headlong in the gulf below, 



Slow rising, shivering through tempestuous clouds, 



That howled like demons in the whizzing shrouds. 



Down in the cabin by the uproar driven, 



Headless of all the warring winds of heaven, 



Sick, loaning, speechless, and unfit to pray, 



Our three pale /westers inglorious lay ; 



Groan answered groan ; while at each desperate throe 



The deep bilge-water churned and roared below. 



Sad night of sickness, tumult, fears and hopes, 



Of roaring surges, and of rattling ropes, 



Heart-rending Teachings, tossings to and fro, 



And all the horrors land-born lubbers know. 



