Page:Landon in Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap Book 1838.pdf/38

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His voice is low—his smile is sweet— He has a girl’s blue eyes; And yet I would far rather meet The storm in yonder skies.

The fiercest of our pirate band Holds at his name the breath; For there is blood on his right hand, And in his heart is death.

He knows he rides above his grave, Yet careless is his eye; He looks with scorn upon the wave, With scorn upon the sky.

Great God! the sights that I have seen When far upon the main! I’d rather that my death had been Than see those sights again.

Pale faces glimmer, and are gone, Wild voices rise from shore; I see one giant wave sweep on— It breaks!—we rise no more.