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A fisherman who saw her float, Bore her in silence to his boat. She lived! how often had I said To mine own heart she is not dead; And she remember'd me, and when They bade us never meet again, She sent to me an Ethiop slave, The same who guides us o'er the wave, Whom she had led to that pure faith Which sains and saves in life and death, And plann'd escape.

It was one morn I saw our conquering standards borne, And gazed upon a Christian knight Wounded and prisoner from the fight;