On the charred and reeling prow
Reft of hope, they gather now,
Finding, one by one, a grave
In the vexed and sullen wave.
Here the child, as if in sleep,
Floats on waters dark and deep;
There the mother sinks below,
Shrieking in her mighty wo.
Britons, quick to strive or feel,
Joined with chiefs of rich Brazil;
Western freemen, prompt to dare,
Side by side with Bourbon's heir;
Proving who could _then_ excel,
Came with succour long and well;
But Jerome, in peril nursed;
Shone among the foremost--_first_.
Through the reddened surge and spray,
Fast he cleaves his troubled way;
Boldly climbs and stoutly clings,
On the smoking timber springs;
Fronts the flames, nor fears to stand
In that lorn and weeping band;
Looks on death, nor tries to shun,
Till his work of love is done.
Glorious man!--immortal work!--
Claim thy hero, proud New York;
Harp of him when feasts are spread,
Tomb him with thy valiant dead.
Who that, bent on just renown,
Seeks a Christian's prize and crown,
Would not spurn whole years of life,
For one hour of _such_ a strife?
* * * * *
Printed and Published by W. and R. CHAMBERS, High Street, Edinburgh.
Also sold by W.S. ORR, Amen Corner, London; D.N. CHAMBERS, 55 West
Nile Street, Glasgow; and J. M'GLASHAN, 50 Upper Sackville Street,
Dublin.
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