Likewise the merchant captains, with hearts as hard as stone, Which flog men and keel-haul them, and starve them to the bone. 12 Oh, the palms grew high in Avès, and fruits that shone like gold, And the colibris and parrots they were gorgeous to behold; And the negro maids to Avès from bondage fast did flee, To welcome gallant sailors a-sweeping in from sea. 16 Oh, sweet it was in Avès to hear the landward breeze, A-swing with good tobacco in a net between the trees, With a negro lass to fan you, while you listen'd to the roar Of the breakers on the reef outside, that never touched the shore. But Scripture saith, an ending to all fine things must be; So the King's ships sail'd on Avès, and quite put down were we. All day we fought like bulldogs, but they burst the booms at night; 20 And I fled in a piragua, sore wounded, from the fight. 24 Nine days I floated starving, and a negro lass beside, Till for all I tried to cheer her, the poor young thing she died; But as I lay a-gasping, a Bristol sail came by, And brought me home to England here, to beg until I die. 28 And now I'm old and going-I 'm sure I can't tell where; One comfort is, this world's so hard, I can't be worse off there: If I might be a sea-dove, I 'd fly across the main, To the pleasant Isle of Avès, to look at it once again. 1857. 32 Charles Kingsley. THE WORLD I SAW Eternity the other night, Like a great ring of pure and endless light, And round beneath it, Time in hours, days, years, Driv'n by the spheres Like a vast shadow mov'd; in which the world And all her train were hurl'd. The doting lover in his quaintest strain Did there complain; Near him, his lute, his fancy, and his slights, Wit's sour delights; With gloves, and knots the silly snares of pleasure, Yet his dear treasure, All scatter'd lay, while he his eyes did pour The darksome statesman, hung with weights and woe, 7 15 Like a thick midnight-fog, moved there so slow, He did nor stay, nor go; Condemning thoughts-like sad eclipses-scowl Upon his soul, |