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Yet danger haunts those lovely isles, The fever and the foe— The brighter that the sun-beams fall, The deeper shade they throw.

But that fair ship has 'scaped them all, The battle and the wreck; The fever has not touched a man Upon her crowded deck.

Now home to England, home again, Across the waves they go— With triumph in her swelling sails, And treasure down below.

Ah! many a hearth is happy now, And those who feared before, Now the good ship is homeward bound, Believe in hope once more.

Two orphans—lovely sisters they— Had worn the winter through; The elder, for the younger's sake, Watched the wild waters blue.

But now they looked, with eager eyes, Towards the setting sun; Rejoicing, as the evening came, Another day was done.