60 Unerringly, through star-enshrouding storms, The polar lamp ; whose restless tremulous hand,— Whether the labouring ship couch 'tween the waves,
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Or reeling quiver on the foaming ridge,— Still points aright, and guides her o'er the deep. But soon the foul preeminence in guilt By England was engrossed. From Mersey's bay, Or turbid Severn, mark the gallant ship,
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Gaily bedecked, a scene of seeming joy, Where many a heavy and repentant heart Sees the green shore recede, the mountains grey Sink from the straining sight, and nought all round But wave and sky. Ere long sweet-scented airs, From Lusitania's groves, swell every sail
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With fragrance, every heart with vernal joy : Smiling the aged helmsman turns to breathe The balmy gale; while from the topmast height The ship-boy spies the blossom-gilded shore
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And thinks how happy is the land-boy's life, Who fearless climbs among the loaded boughs. These shores glide fast away, and Atlas frowns Far o'er the deep : the fire-peaked Teneriffe Amid the gloom of night is first descried : With day, the islands falsely happy called Pass in review, and tropic waves succeed. Sagacious of the taint that still adheres
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