And full of hope day followed day 15
  While that stout Ship at anchor lay
  Beside the shores of Wight;
  The May had then made all things green;
  And, floating there, in pomp serene,
  That Ship was goodly to be seen, 20
  His pride and his delight!

  Yet then, when called ashore, he sought
  The tender peace of rural thought: 
  In more than happy mood
  To your abodes, bright daisy Flowers! 25
  He then would steal at leisure hours,
  And loved you glittering in your bowers,
  A starry multitude.

  But hark the word!—­the ship is gone;—­
  Returns from her long course:  [1]—­anon 30
  Sets sail:—­in season due,
  Once more on English earth they stand: 
  But, when a third time from the land
  They parted, sorrow was at hand
  For Him and for his crew. 35

  Ill-fated Vessel!—­ghastly shock! 
  —­At length delivered from the rock,
  The deep she hath regained;
  And through the stormy night they steer;
  Labouring for life, in hope and fear, 40
  To reach a safer shore [2]—­how near,
  Yet not to be attained!

  “Silence!” the brave Commander cried;
  To that calm word a shriek replied,
  It was the last death-shriek. 45
  —­A few (my soul oft sees that sight)
  Survive upon the tall mast’s height; [3]
  But one dear remnant of the night—­
  For Him in vain I seek.

  Six weeks beneath the moving sea 50
  He lay in slumber quietly;
  Unforced by wind or wave
  To quit the Ship for which he died,
  (All claims of duty satisfied;)
  And there they found him at her side; 55
  And bore him to the grave.

  Vain service! yet not vainly done
  For this, if other end were none,
  That He, who had been cast
  Upon a way of life unmeet 60
  For such a gentle Soul and sweet,
  Should find an undisturbed retreat
  Near what he loved, at last—­

  That neighbourhood of grove and field
  To Him a resting-place should yield, 65
  A meek man and a brave! 
  The birds shall sing and ocean make
  A mournful murmur for his sake;
  And Thou, sweet Flower, shalt sleep and wake
  Upon his senseless grave. [4] 70

* * * * *

VARIANTS ON THE TEXT

[Variant 1: 

1837.

  From her long course returns:—... 1815.]

[Variant 2: 

1837.

  Towards a safer shore—... 1815.]

[Variant 3: 

1837

—­A few appear by morning light,
  Preserved upon the tall mast’s height: 
  Oft in my Soul I see that sight; 1815.]