Vi

And be it so--for to the chill night shower And the sharp wind his head he oft hath bared; A Sailor he, who many a wretched hour Hath told; for, landing after labour hard, Full long endured in hope of just reward, He to an armèd fleet was forced away By seamen, who perhaps themselves had shared Like fate; was hurried off, a helpless prey, 'Gainst all that in his heart, or theirs perhaps, said nay.