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LOUDS, gold and purple, o'er the westering ray Threw a bright veil, and catching lights between, Fell on the glancing sail, that we had seen With soft, but adverse winds, throughout the day Contending vainly: as the vessel nears, Increasing numbers hail it from the shore; Lo! on the deck a pallid form appears, Half wondering to behold himself once more Approach his home—And now he can discern His cottage thatch amid surrounding trees; Yet, trembling, dreads lest sorrow or disease Await him there, embittering his return: But all he loves are safe; with heart elate, Tho' poor and plunder'd, he absolves his fate!