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And thunders rent the darken'd vault of heaven;
Loud shriek'd the wild winds from their viewless path,
And lash'd the restless surge to foaming wrath,
'Till with a maniac force, the raging blast
The shatter'd vessel 'mid the breakers cast.
Sad, weary, faint, the unprotected train
Trust their last fortunes to the faithless main;
Raise their weak heads above the billows' foam,
And pine with anguish for their distant home.
The natives, watching from their sea girt isle,
Saw the spent sufferers at their feeble toil,
Held their bright torch above the surge's roar,
Lent their kind hand to aid them to the shore,
Gave a glad shelter from the driving wind,
And with warm welcome cheer'd the sinking mind.
As round the blaze their sea-beat forms they drew,
Forth from the flame a hissing viper flew,
Quick to a guardless hand, his venom'd dart
Shot that keen poison, which corrodes the heart;
Utter'd the astonish'd natives as they view'd,
"This wretched man is stained with guiltless blood,
"And though he scap'd the doom the seas might give,
"Yet righteous vengeance suffers not to live."
