168
Lost in o'erwhelming wonder the humbled youth exclaims ;
"O Father, by the tenderest of all Thy chosen names,
By Thy great love incarnate, forgive my soul that still
Against Thine awful counsels hath raised a sinful will !"
What feverish throb of life our isle
Now stirs, that lay so calm erewhile ?
Why do they hurry to the shore,
And send their searching glances o'er
The roughening sea ? What ! know'st thou not,
From Hamburg city news is brought,
That Melleff, son of Amroom, late
A slave in Barbary, doth wait
In her safe port for wind and tide
To waft him to our island's side ?
To-day the breeze blows fresh and fair,
To-day the favoring tide rolls high,
To-day no sea-mists blind the air,
The bark that bears him must be nigh !
The downs in panting haste they climb,