"Yield to the foe ?----never while breath survives !

How brief the race of man by nature lives!
How few the days that we forestall of Time!
To die in battle----is to die sublime!

66

Behold, how Gamble with unflagging zeal, Quenches the flames that bursted from the keel! Hearts that display such daring----never melt---To mortal man, such spirits never knelt !

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"A gale like visiter from heaven has sprung It wafts us to the shore with feelings young, Urge on the lagging vessel to the strand,

And spread the fire, and every hero land!"

'Tis doubtful which most cheer'd the sinking crew-
Or Porter's voice, or gales which favouring blew
And bore the suffering Essex to the shores,
While drops of blood ran sweating from her pores—
For still the Phoebe kept a distant roll,

Touching at times the centre of her soul!
The soft gale freshening bearing her to land,
Imparted vigour to her deathless band.
Hope's rainbow'd visions in their beauty came,
To gain the shore and light her in a flame.

But, ah! the wanton breezes shift their wing,
And opposite the foe her length they bring,
Hopeless expos'd to all the Phoebe's fire,
Piercing her life! increasing in her ire!

By this the Cherub had her wounds made tight,
And join'd the Phoebe in th' unequal fight.
Both ships in concert feel their strength sublime
T' erase the Essex from the book of time.

Through every vein of life the Chilians acheHeart-bursting sighs from every bosom break; Tears rank with bitterness proclaim their grief— They see no hope but yielding for relief.

Yet still with souls unconquer'd are the crew!
Nor can the enemy their will subdue.

A something supernatural seems to live
In Porter's eye--from which the brave receive
An inspiration of immortal fire-

To die with him the utmost they desire!

Lo, at this period, like a ray from heaven, A daring thought was to the hero given:

"To anchor of the stern a hawser, bend,Till the last beating of the pulse contend! From bows, the cable, loose! Round poise her head, And cast a flame to strike the living dead!" Scarce had the order echo'd from his tongue, When dire her cannonry repulsive rung. The Cherub, Phoebe, tremble every gunIn vain they strive the iron storm to shun. Ingham expires beneath the splintering ball, Which still more fatal their exertions pall.

90

Blood like new fountains gushes every side-
They fail they sink-their decks are in the tide !
Each moment threatens their expiring last,
The Essex' thunders striking every blast!

The gazing multitudes sublim'd from earth, Shout to the glory of Columbian birth :

"The Essex conquers! waves her flag on high! Britannia sinks with all her infamy!"

The shout was heard beneath the ocean's swell, Like bursting clouds, by him escap'd from hell; In sulphur-smoke he rose above the seaAnd mark'd his vessels in extremity :

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"Is hell upon the earth? Behold, they sink! They tremble on the edge of peril's brink. "Not possible, she strangles both of Ours ? Is this the sea-girt nation's boasted powers? No-never can it be! What two

Or

go

Swift We must
gone for ever in the floods below!"
This said. He backward darted in the deep,
And plac'd his length beneath each sinking ship,
And buoy'd them up--his might so wonderful!
The waters rapid, closing on their hull,

And hurrying them to death!

The vessels sav'd,

Though Ocean thought them in his empire grav'd—

Two fiery balls came whirling in a chain,

And rent the cable of the spring in twain !

The Essex swung a wreck upon the wave,
And hence no further she resistance gave.
From all her ports, vast flames in volumes roll,
Threatening to scath and smother every soul,

And no deliverance near to quench them in control !

The brave stood cramp'd with dampness on their heart,

When they beheld the last-last cable part-
But when they saw the flashing from beneath,
They felt the feeling that is felt in death!

Porter exclaim'd: "The standard, let it fly! We 've glorious fought, and gloriously we die !"

Scarce had he spoken, when a rushing light Stream'd down the heavens and wrapp'd the flag from sight!

The Phoenix Eagle, quicken'd from the pyre-
The stars shot blazing from the hallow'd fire!

Fredonia caught and plac'd them on her brow,
And wide through heaven convey'd the splendid show!
Her trump so sweet she sounded with her breath,
It call'd bright angels to the spheres beneath :
"This glory I decree! Porter shall live,
Whilst Fame immortal has a breath to give!"