Page:The West Indies, and Other Poems.djvu/159

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Their native soil no more they trod;They rest beneath no hallow'd sod;Throughout the living world,This sole memorial of their lotRemains,—they were, and they are not.
The Spirit of the Cape[1] pursuedTheir long and toilsome way;At length, in ocean solitude,He sprang upon his prey;'Havoc!' the shipwreck-demon cried,Loosed all his tempests on the tide,Gave all his lightnings play:The abyss recoil'd before the blast,Firm stood the seaman till the last.
  1. ↑ The Cape of Good Hope, formerly called the Cape of Storms.—See Camoens' Lusiad, book V.
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