Young hearts, which languish'd for some sunny isle,
Where summer years and summer women smile;
Men without country, who, too long estranged,
Had found no native home, or found it changed,
And, half-uncivilized, preferred the cave
Of some soft savage to the uncertain wave;
The gushing fruits that nature gave untill'd;
The wood without a path but where they will'd;
The field o'er which promiscuous plenty pour'd
Her horn; the equal land without a lord;
The wish-which ages have not yet subdued
In man-to have no master save his mood;
The earth, whose mine was on its face, unsold,
The glowing sun and produce all its gold;
The freedom which can call each grot a home;
The general garden where all steps may roam,
Where nature owns a nation as her child,
Exulting in the enjoyment of the wild ;
Their shells, their fruits, the only wealth they know;
Their unexploring navy, the canoe ;
Their sport, the dashing breakers and the chase; Their strangest sight, an European face :
Such was the country which these strangers yearn'd To see again-a sight they dearly earn'd.
Awake, bold Bligh! the foe is at the gate!
Awake! awake!-Alas! it is too late!
Fiercely beside thy cot the mutineer
Stands, and proclaims the reign of rage and fear.
Thy limbs are bound, the bayonet at thy breast,
The hands which trembled at thy voice, arrest:
Dragg'd o'er the deck, no more at thy command
The obedient helm shall veer, the sail expand;
That savage spirit, which would lull by wrath
Its desperate escape from duty's path,
Glares round thee, in the scarce-believing eyes
Of those who fear the chief they sacrifice;
For ne'er can man his conscience all assuage,
Unless he drain the wine of passion—rage.
In vain, not silenced by the eye of death,
Thou call'st the loyal with thy menaced breath :—
They come not; they are few, and, overawed,
Must acquiesce while sterner hearts applaud.
In vain thou dost demand the cause; a curse
Is all the answer, with the threat of worse.