Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 5.djvu/631

CANTO I.] They would not dip their souls at once in blood, But left thee to the mercies of the flood.

V."Hoist out the boat!" was now the leader's cry; And who dare answer "No!" to Mutiny, In the first dawning of the drunken hour, The Saturnalia of unhoped-for power? The boat is lowered with all the haste of hate, With its slight plank between thee and thy fate; Her only cargo such a scant supply As promises the death their hands deny; And just enough of water and of bread To keep, some days, the dying from the dead: Some cordage, canvass, sails, and lines, and twine, But treasures all to hermits of the brine, Were added after, to the earnest prayer Of those who saw no hope, save sea and air; And last, that trembling vassal of the Pole— The feeling compass—Navigation's soul.

VI.And now the self-elected Chief finds time To stun the first sensation of his crime,