“There were we long neglected, and we bore 280
  Much sorrow ere the fleet its anchor weighed [30]
  Green fields before us, and our native shore,
  We breathed a pestilential air, that made
  Ravage for which no knell was heard.  We prayed
  For our departure; wished and wished—­nor knew, 285
  ’Mid that long sickness and those hopes delayed, [31]
  That happier days we never more must view. 
  The parting signal streamed—­at last the land withdrew.

XXXIII

“But the calm summer season now was past. [32] On as we drove, the equinoctial deep 290 Ran mountains high before the howling blast, And many perished in the whirlwind’s sweep.  We gazed with terror on their gloomy sleep, [33] Untaught that soon such anguish must ensue, Our hopes such harvest of affliction reap, 295 That we the mercy of the waves should rue:  We reached the western world, a poor devoted crew. [34]

XXXIV

  “The pains and plagues that on our heads came down,
  Disease and famine, agony and fear,
  In wood or wilderness, in camp or town, 300
  It would unman the firmest heart to hear. [35]
  All perished—­all in one remorseless year,
  Husband and children! one by one, by sword
  And ravenous plague, all perished:  every tear
  Dried up, despairing, desolate, on board 305
  A British ship I waked, as from a trance restored.”

XXXV

  Here paused she of all present thought forlorn,
  Nor voice, nor sound, that moment’s pain expressed,
  Yet Nature, with excess of grief o’erborne,
  From her full eyes their watery load released. 310
  He too was mute:  and, ere her weeping ceased,
  He rose, and to the ruin’s portal went,
  And saw the dawn opening the silvery east
  With rays of promise, north and southward sent;
  And soon with crimson fire kindled the firmament. 315

XXXVI

  “O come,” he cried, “come, after weary night
  Of such rough storm, this happy change to view.” 
  So forth she came, and eastward looked; the sight
  Over her brow like dawn of gladness threw;
  Upon her cheek, to which its youthful hue 320
  Seemed to return, dried the last lingering tear,
  And from her grateful heart a fresh one drew: 
  The whilst her comrade to her pensive cheer
  Tempered fit words of hope; and the lark warbled near.

XXXVII