William Cowper
The Castaway
Obscurest night involved the sky, | |||
The Atlantic billows roared, | |||
When such a destined wretch as I, | |||
Washed headlong from on board, | |||
5 | Of friends, of hope, of all bereft, | ||
His floating home for ever left. | |||
No braver Chief could Albion boast | |||
Than He with whom he went, | |||
Nor ever ship left Albion’s coast | |||
10 | With warmer wishes sent. | ||
He loved them both, but both in vain, | |||
Nor Him beheld, nor Her again. | |||
Not long beneath the whelming brine, | |||
Expert to swim, he lay; | |||
15 | Nor soon he felt his strength decline, | ||
Or courage die away; | |||
But waged with Death a lasting strife, | |||
Supported by despair of life. | |||
He shouted; nor his friends had fail’d | |||
20 | To check the vessel’s course, | ||
But so the furious blast prevail’d, | |||
That, pitiless perforce, | |||
They left their outcast mate behind, | |||
And scudded still before the wind. | |||
25 | Some succour yet they could afford; | ||
And, such as storms allow, | |||
The cask, the coop, the floated cord, | |||
Delayed not to bestow. | |||
But He (they knew) nor ship nor shore, | |||
30 | Whate’er they gave, should visit more. | ||
Nor, cruel as it seemed, could He | |||
Their haste, himself, condemn, | |||
Aware that flight, in such a sea, | |||
Alone could rescue them; | |||
35 | Yet bitter felt it still to die | ||
Deserted, and his friends so nigh. | |||
He long survives, who lives an hour | |||
In ocean, self-upheld; | |||
And so long he, with unspent pow’r, | |||
40 | His destiny repell’d; | ||
And ever, as the minutes flew, | |||
Entreated help, or cried ’Adieu!’ | |||
At length, his transient respite past, | |||
His comrades, who before | |||
45 | Had heard his voice in every blast, | ||
Could catch the sound no more; | |||
For then, by toil subdued, he drank | |||
The stifling wave, and then he sank. | |||
No poet wept him: but the page | |||
50 | Of narrative sincere, | ||
That tells his name, his worth, his age, | |||
Is wet with Anson’s tear, | |||
And tears by bards or heroes shed | |||
Alike immortalise the dead. | |||
55 | I therefore purpose not or dream, | ||
Descanting on his fate, | |||
To give the melancholy theme | |||
A more enduring date, | |||
But misery still delights to trace | |||
65 | Its semblance in another’s case. | ||
No voice divine the storm allay’d, | |||
No light propitious shone, | |||
When, snatched from all effectual aid, | |||
We perish’d, each, alone; | |||
65 | But I, beneath a rougher sea, | ||
And whelmed in deeper gulphs than he. |
First published 1799
Robert Clark