III.

"A sail!--a sail!"--a promised prize to Hope! Her nation--flag--how speaks the telescope?[hl] No prize, alas! but yet a welcome sail: The blood-red signal glitters in the gale. Yes--she is ours--a home-returning bark-- Blow fair, thou breeze!--she anchors ere the dark. Already doubled is the cape--our bay Receives that prow which proudly spurns the spray. 90 How gloriously her gallant course she goes! Her white wings flying--never from her foes-- She walks the waters like a thing of Life![199] And seems to dare the elements to strife. Who would not brave the battle-fire, the wreck, To move the monarch of her peopled deck!