And, such the stillness of the house,
You might have heard a nibbling mouse;
While, borrowing helps where'er he may,
The Sailor through the story runs
Of Ships to Ships and guns to guns;
And does his utmost to display
The dismal conflict, and the might
And terror of that wonderous night!
"A Bowl, a Bowl of double measure,"
Cries Benjamin, "A draught of length,
To Nelson, England's pride and treasure,
Her bulwark and her tower of strength!"
When Benjamin had seized the bowl,
The Mastiff, from beneath the waggon,
Where he lay, watchful as a dragon,
Rattled his chain - 'twas all in vain,
For Benjamin, triumphant soul!
He heard the monitory growl;
Heard-and in opposition quaffed
A deep, determined, desperate draught!
Nor did the battered tar forget,
Or flinch from what he deemed his debt:
Then like a hero, crowned with laurel,
Back to her place the ship he led ;
Wheeled her back in full apparel;
And so, flag flying at mast-head,
Re-yoked her to the Ass:
Cries Benjamin, "We must be gone."
Thus, after two hours' hearty stay,
Again behold them on their way!
RIGHT gladly had the horses stirred,
When they the wish'd-for greeting heard,
The whip's loud notice from the door,
That they were free to move once more.
You think, these doings must have bred
In them disheartening doubts and dread;
No, not a horse of all the eight,
Although it be a moonless night,
Fears either for himself or freight ;
For this they know (and let it hide,
In part, the offences of their Guide)
That Benjamin, with clouded brains,
Is worth the best with all their pains;
And, if they had a prayer to make,
The prayer would be that they may take
With him whatever comes in course,
The better fortune or the worse;
That no one else may have business near them, And, drunk or sober, he may steer them.
So, forth in dauntless mood they fare, And with them goes the guardian pair.
Now, heroes, for the true commotion,
The triumph of your late devotion!
Can aught on earth impede delight,
Still mounting to a higher height;
And higher still a greedy flight!
any low-born care pursue her,
Can any mortal clog come to her?
No notion have they — not a thought,
That is from joyless regions brought!
And, while they coast the silent lake,
Their inspiration I partake;
Share their empyreal spirits - yea,
With their enraptured vision, see-
O fancy, what a jubilee !
What shifting pictures-clad in gleams Of colour bright as feverish dreams! Earth, spangled sky, and lake serene, Involved and restless all
Pregnant with mutual exaltation,
Rich change, and multiplied creation!
This sight to me the Muse imparts ;-
And then, what kindness in their hearts!
What tears of rapture, what vow-making,
Profound entreaties, and hand-shaking !
What solemn, vacant, interlacing,
As if they'd fall asleep embracing!
Then, in the turbulence of glee,
And in the excess of amity,
Says Benjamin, "That Ass of thine,
He spoils thy sport, and hinders mine:
If he were tethered to the Waggon,
He'd drag as well what he is dragging;
And we, as brother should with brother,
Might trudge it alongside each other!"
Forthwith, obedient to command,. The horses made a quiet stand;
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