No More Learning

Alas! his deck was trod by unwilling feet,
And wilder hands would hold the vessel's sheet;
Young hearts, which languished for some sunny isle,
Where summer years and summer women smile;
Men without country, who, too long estranged,
Had found no native home, or found it changed, 30
And, half uncivilised, preferred the cave
Of some soft savage to the uncertain wave--
The gushing fruits that nature gave unfilled;
The wood without a path--but where they willed;
The field o'er which promiscuous Plenty poured
Her horn; the equal land without a lord;
The wish--which ages have not yet subdued
In man--to have no master save his mood;[354]
The earth, whose mine was on its face, unsold,
The glowing sun and produce all its gold; 40
The Freedom which can call each grot a home;
The general garden, where all steps may roam,
Where Nature owns a nation as her child,
Exulting in the enjoyment of the wild;[ez]
Their shells, their fruits, the only wealth they know,
Their unexploring navy, the canoe;[fa]
Their sport, the dashing breakers and the chase;
Their strangest sight, an European face:--
Such was the country which these strangers yearned
To see again--a sight they dearly earned. 50


III.

Awake, bold Bligh! the foe is at the gate!
Awake! awake! ----Alas! it is too late!
Fiercely beside thy cot the mutineer
Stands, and proclaims the reign of rage and fear.
Thy limbs are bound, the bayonet at thy breast;
The hands, which trembled at thy voice, arrest;
Dragged o'er the deck, no more at thy command
The obedient helm shall veer, the sail expand;
That savage Spirit, which would lull by wrath
Its desperate escape from Duty's path, 60
Glares round thee, in the scarce believing eyes
Of those who fear the Chief they sacrifice:
For ne'er can Man his conscience all assuage,
Unless he drain the wine of Passion--Rage.


IV.

In vain, not silenced by the eye of Death,
Thou call'st the loyal with thy menaced breath:--
They come not; they are few, and, overawed,
Must acquiesce, while sterner hearts applaud.
In vain thou dost demand the cause: a curse
Is all the answer, with the threat of worse. 70
Full in thine eyes is waved the glittering blade,
Close to thy throat the pointed bayonet laid.
The levelled muskets circle round thy breast
In hands as steeled to do the deadly rest.
Thou dar'st them to their worst, exclaiming--"Fire! "
But they who pitied not could yet admire;
Some lurking remnant of their former awe
Restrained them longer than their broken law;
They would not dip their souls at once in blood,
But left thee to the mercies of the flood. [355] 80


V.

"Hoist out the boat! " was now the leader's cry;
And who dare answer "No! " to Mutiny,
In the first dawning of the drunken hour,
The Saturnalia of unhoped-for power?
The boat is lowered with all the haste of hate,
With its slight plank between thee and thy fate;
Her only cargo such a scant supply
As promises the death their hands deny;
And just enough of water and of bread
To keep, some days, the dying from the dead: 90
Some cordage, canvass, sails, and lines, and twine,
But treasures all to hermits of the brine,
Were added after, to the earnest prayer
Of those who saw no hope, save sea and air;
And last, that trembling vassal of the Pole--
The feeling compass--Navigation's soul. [356]


VI.

And now the self-elected Chief finds time
To stun the first sensation of his crime,
And raise it in his followers--"Ho! the bowl! "[357]
Lest passion should return to reason's shoal. [fb] 100
"Brandy for heroes! "[358] Burke could once exclaim--
No doubt a liquid path to Epic fame;
And such the new-born heroes found it here,
And drained the draught with an applauding cheer.
"Huzza! for Otaheite!