- The Castaway
- William Cowper
- Exported from Wikisource on 03/05/20
- OBSCUREST night involv'd the sky,
- Th' Atlantic billows roar'd,
- When such a destin'd wretch as I,
- Wash'd headlong from on board,
- Of friends, of hope, of all bereft,
- His floating home forever left.
- No braver chief could Albion boast
- Than he with whom he went
- Nor ever ship left Albion's coast,
- With warmer wishes sent.
- He lov'd them both, but both in vain,
- Nor him beheld, nor her again.
- Not long beneath the whelming brine,
- Expert to swim, he lay;
- Nor soon he felt his strength decline,
- Or courage die away;
- But wag'd with death a lasting strife,
- Supported by despair of life.
- He shouted: nor his friends had fail'd
- 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.
- Some succour yet they could afford;
- And, such as storms allow,
- The cask, the coop, the floated cord,
- Delay'd not to bestow.
- But he (they knew) nor ship, nor shore,
- Whate'er they gave, should visit more.
- Nor, cruel as it seem'd, could he
- Their haste himself condemn,
- Aware that flight, in such a sea,
- Alone could rescue them;
- 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,
- 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
- Had heard his voice in ev'ry 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
- 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 immortalize the dead.
- 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
- Its 'semblance in another's case.
- No voice divine the storm allay'd,
- No light propitious shone;
- When, snatch'd from all effectual aid,
- We perish'd, each alone;
- But I beneath a rougher sea,
- And whelm'd in deeper gulphs than he.
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