Of pity that so long had slept
     Into a flame of fury leapt,
     And scorched my heart to madness!—I
     Denounc'd such felon infamy
     With scathing words—till many a knife
     Was brandish'd 'gainst my threaten'd life;
     I brav'd them all—shot down the chief,
     And then, with 'passion'd speed more brief
     Than words that tell it—headlong gave
     My body to the surging wave.
     Swift as I swam, the bullets swifter
     Came pelting round:—a deadly snifter!
     But harmlessly the bullets sped—
     'Tis a small mark, a swimmer's head—
     Ere long the leaden storm was o'er ,
     And, nearly spent, I reach'd the shore.

     How I did the snake escape
     In the densely-tangled brake,
     How the alligator pass
     Thro' the treacherous morass,
     And the panther in his lair,
     Marvellous to tell it were,
     But vain the wondrous tale—suffice,
     I struck the coast by Barcobice
     (One of the fabled El Dorados),
     And found a bark bound to Barbadoes.

     On board—and 'scaped the danger dread
     That hung around me—my poor head
     Gave way to fever's racking raid—
      By turns I curs'd, by turns I pray'd;
      In darksome dream I saw the meek
      Old visage of the good Cacique
      In placid courage all unmov'd,
      While, murder'd round him, those he lov'd.
      And then a lovelier face would seem
      To watch me in my troubled dream;
      But soon Cacique and Princess flew
      O'er seas of blood in swift canoe,
      And when I woke, a cherub face,
      Resplendent with its mother's grace,
      My languid eye beheld with joy—
      Yes!— I had saved my darling boy!

          *             *             *             *            *

     Pass we o'er some gaps of time;
      I had fled the tropic clime,
      Had seen (unknown) my natal hall,
      Silent and desolated all,
       Its stalwart sons had withered fast,
      Of all its race I was the last,
      And strange emotions inly burned
      Within the Prodigal returned,
      And early lessons crowding came
      To bow my harden'd heart to shame:—
      No father, with forgiving eye
      To weep upon my neck was nigh;—
      No—he had died—nor knew his son
      Repented of the evil done.

     Should I the bonds of mystery burst
     And prove myself the heir?—At first
      I shrank from such ordeal dread—
      Better, by far, be rumoured " dead,"
      Than known to live, and living, be
      The mark of odious obloquy;—
       For rumours o'er the sea had sped
       Of wicked life by Rover led:—
       Oh! when did rumour ever fail
       To propagate an ugly tale!

      Still, for my boy's sake to retain
       My lineal rights, whate'er the pain
       To me, was duty;—so I gave
       All scruple to the winds—and brave
       In love parental forth I stood,
       And needed all my hardihood,
      To meet the looks of dull suspicion,
      The jeering lip of cold derision,
      When in the open Court I sued
      Before the Bench, my rights of blood.
      Methought a sickening echo sped
      Throughout the hall when "blood" I said;
      Or were they many whispers vile
      That hiss'd the word thro' scoffing smile?

      Deep was the shade upon the brow
      Of the stern Judge, in asking how
      I dare adventure claim for one
      All unentitled, tho' my son;
      No proof of marriage rite I gave—
      The ancient line of Bar-de-luy
      Might never represented be
      By offspring of some Indian slave.

     High swell'd my heart—and forth I said
     "Simple the rite by which I wed
      No Indian slave—no menial thing,
      My bride was daughter of a king,
      The Princess of a distant coast:—
      No Christian rite, 'tis true, they boast
      In that far land;—but simply taking
      Each other's hand is marriage-making,
      And sprinkled fiow'rs above the head,
      Declare the plighted lovers wed:—
      The rite is all-sufficient, sure,
      Which custom in each land makes pure,
      And ne'er before cathedral shrine
      Was marriage vow more pure than mine!"

      Then did a shout indignant burst
      Throughout the hall.—" He is accurst!"
      The crowd exclaim'd: " In Pagan lands
      He has abjured his God's commands
       And here a Christian people braves
       With impious words!"—The lifted staves
      Of the Court's officers alone,
      Preserved my life from staff and stone,
      And, 'midst the uproar wild, a cry,
      Rang in my ears, " Fly, father, fly!"

       It was my boy's—how came he there
       I knew not—but his childish pray'r
       Imparted childish fear to me—
       I'd sooner dared and died, than fiee
      Th' ignoble crowd before he spoke,
      But now, parental fear awoke
      Within my heart for that dear child,
      Amidst a multitude so wild;
      I clasped him close and rush'd away,
      Lest his young life should fall a prey
      To the demoniac crowd, whose yell
      Rang in my ears like blasts from hell.
      Forth through a secret panel, known
      To few but me, we swiftly passed,
      Behind me a fierce curse I cast
      Upon the mob, whose prey was flown.
      My shallop's topsail caught the wind,
      Laden with shouts of foes behind,
      But less and less the outcry grew,
      As o'er the lake the shallop flew.

     Straight for Skalkragga's isle I steer'd,
      It was a spot devoutly fear'd;
     Of evil fame—although to me
      In boyhood known familiarly
      (For I was ever prone to run
      To wild adventure others shun),
      And in that isle, above the flood
      In stalagmitic grandeur stood