DARK is the night, and deep and lowering

Hang its shadows o’er the main;

On the billow awful towering,

Yonder glide the warrior train.

Not a star betrays their motions,

Hush’d, unseen, they hold their way

Sullen as the calm of ocean,

At the lurid close of day.

Lo! the fleet with valour teeming,

Dimly skirts the westward sky;

Hope and doubt alternate beaming

From the war-instructed eye.

Preble there, serene, presiding,

Distant marks the floating death,

Toward the castle darkly gliding,

Aided by the breeze’s breath.

Chief of daring! thine is glory

Far beyond the reach of Fate:

Slain—immortalized in story,

Living—valorous and great.

Thine the calm, heroic spirit,

Firm to act, and bold to dare,

Or to grasp the meed of merit,

Or the hero’s grave to share!

Now the bark, in distance fading,

Glooms beneath the turret-steep,

Not a sound the ear invading,

Save the murmur of the deep.

Surely she has gain’d her station,

Lost in distance and in gloom:

’Tis the pause of expectation—

’Tis the silence of the tomb.

Warriors! rue the gale that bore them:

Rue the gloom that wrapp’d the skies:

Never shall the sun restore them

To your valour-weeping eyes!

Shield them, Heaven, amid the explosion:

Quickly waft them from the shore.

Who can bear the swift concussion?

Who can list the sudden roar?

See, the flash! one moment shining,

Ocean, earth, and heaven illume!

Now, again, ’tis lost—resigning

Heaven, and earth, and sea to gloom.

Horror all, and wild commotion—

Shrieks of millions from the shore—

Gleaming on the sulphurous ocean,

Cannons burst with rapid roar:

Atlas, trembling, hears the thunder

Bellow through his shores below;

Sees his tawny sons of plunder,

Frighted, fly without a foe.

Allah! whence this dire undoing

Rushing through the troubled air?

Save, O save thy race from ruin!

Shield the faithful from despair!

O’er the scene, at length, reposing,

Wrapp’d in desolation’s reign,

Morn, reluctantly disclosing,

Faintly gilds the eastward plain.

Rise in haste, O God of splendour!

Valour bids thee swiftly rise:

Triumph to the deeds we’ll render

Veil’d by midnight from our eyes.

Hail, the wave that, to our wishes,

Proudly wafts the daring few!

Hail, the dawn that bears, propitious,

Fame and Somers to his crew!

Morning breaks—but, ah, to languish!

Lurid was the light it shed

O’er the inquiring eye of anguish;

For the warrior train are fled.

Gallant warriors! well attended

Rush’d your valour to its grave;

Many a foe, convulsive rended,

Grimly sank beneath the wave.

Well aveng’d, ere long, you’ll number

Victims, weltering pale and low:

Many a Turk, in icy slumbers,

Soon shall knit the savage brow.

Generous youths your story telling,

Though a sigh suspend the breath;

Every nerve to frenzy swelling,

Claims a victory from death.

Heralds of your country’s glory,

Dawning on the path of time,

Age shall kindle at your story,

Cherish’d oft in future rhyme.

For, the bard on Fame attending,

Shall, enraptured by the tale,

O’er his harp of legends bending,

Give your glories to the gale.

Beauty too, a wreath bestowing,

Bids it flourish round your bier—

Ever in remembrance glowing,

Ever water’d by her tear.

Often shall the Arab wander

From his hills of sunny sand,

On your deeds of fame to ponder,

Circled by his listening band—

“Perish’d here,” he’ll say, “the stranger,

When the star of night was high:

Like thee, Christian, braving danger,

Be it mine like thee to die!”