Farewell, farewell, but this I tell He prayeth best, who loveth best The Mariner, whose eye is bright, Is gone and now the Wedding-Guest He went like one that hath been stunned, A sadder and a wiser man, He rose the morrow morn. COLERIDGE. LIX VERSES (SUPPOSED TO BE WRITTEN BY ALEXANDER SELKIRK, DURING HIS SOLITUDE IN THE ISLAND OF JUAN FERNANDEZ). I am monarch of all I survey; I am lord of the fowl and the brute. O Solitude! where are the charms That sages have seen in thy face? Better dwell in the midst of alarms Than reign in this horrible place. I am out of humanity's reach, I must finish my journey alone, Society, Friendship and Love, How soon would I taste you again! In the ways of religion and truth, Might learn from the wisdom of age, And be cheered by the sallies of youth. Religion what treasure untold Lies hid in that heavenly word! More precious than silver or gold, Or all that this earth can afford. But the sound of the church-going bell, These valleys and rocks never heard; Never sighed at the sound of a knell, Or smiled when a Sabbath appeared. Ye winds that have made me your sport, Of a land I shall visit no more; Though a friend I am never to see. How fleet is a glance of the wind! And the swift winged arrows of light. Soon hurries me back to despair. But the seafowl is gone to her nest, And I to my cabin repair. And reconciles man to his lot. COWPER. LX THE INCHCAPE ROCK. No stir in the air, no stir in the sea, Without either sign or sound of their shock The good old Abbot of Aberbrothok When the Rock was hid by the tempest's swell, The sun in heaven was shining gay All things were joyful on that day; The sea-birds screamed as they wheeled round, And there was joyance in their sound. The float of the Inchcape Bell was seen He felt the cheering power of spring- His eye was on the bell and float— And I'll plague the priest of Aberbrothok." The boat is lowered, the boatmen row, Sir Ralph bent over from the boat, And cut the warning bell from the float. Down sunk the bell, with a gurgling sound, The bubbles rose and burst around; Quoth Sir Ralph, "The next who comes to the Rock Will not bless the priest of Aberbrothok." Sir Ralph the Rover sailed away; He scoured the seas for many a day; And now grown rich with plundered store |