Glides through the deep, or dances on the tide,
Nor needs the pole or compass for his guide.
Where the steep crag invades the waves profound,
The dreadful scuttle spreads his arms around,
Whose fibrous fangs twist closely round his prey,
Suck the best blood, and drain the life away.
O'er the clear water's variegated bed,
Cavernous rocks and coral thickets spread,
Where horned conks their pearly hues unfold,
Gem the blue deep, and drink the solar gold.
Here too huge whales in rapid motion sweep,
Roll o'er the waves, or foam along the deep:
Dark'ning the white sand with a dreadful shade,
While from their nostrils roars a bright cascade!

In this bright isle, no wint'ry snows are known!
Those white-wing'd scourges of the frigid zone!
Nor winter house, the native here requires,
Nor downy furs to warm, nor blazing fires.
For tho' the genial sun be far remote,

In southern climes to charm the friendly goat;
And make the haughty Dons of Paragua
Seek the cool shade, or pant beneath his sway:
Yet still enamour'd of these sea-girt shores,
O'er heaven's arch a gentle heat he pours;

Hence winter brings, tho' foaming billows roll,
No icy armies from the frozen pole.

'Tis true, the gardens half their beauty loose,
And chill and heavy fall the even' dews;
The fig, and vine, their leafy beauty shed,
And the pomegranate's scarlet bloom is dead.
The pride of Ind', in heat a cooling shade,
Not needed now, is stript or disarray'd;
Now gently thro' the veins the life-blood glides,
The titillating prickly-heat subsides:

Less fierce the venomous mosquetoes bite,

Nor burn the eye-balls with the dazzling white.
Yet on these rocks the fierce-wing'd squall descends,
Foams o'er the reefs, and sky and ocean blends!
And ere the morning throws her lucid robe
Of virgin light, o'er half the dusky globe;
The wrecker all impatient of the day,

To the high cliffs directs his eager way;

And where the ocean meets the arched skies,
Where glimmering white the distant breakers rise:
Some hapless bark emerges o'er the tide,
Her cables cut, her tall masts o'er her side,
Along her bends the foaming waters roar,

Mount the tall stem and thunder o'er the prore!

These verdant isles amidst the mighty 'main, These sunny rocks where bloom and beauty reign, Auspicious wisdom might in love design,

A cooling refuge from the burning line;
A shady harbour, a serene retreat,
From torrid fevers, and from torrid heat.
Some say since banish'd from the fiery zone,
The fair Hygeie makes this Isle her throne!
Gaily along the breezy shore she roves,
Or builds her palace 'midst the cedar groves;
A thousand convalescents own her sway,
Bless her mild rule, and willing homage pay:
From where the sun's insufferable blaze,
Makes sultry nights and suffocating days;
From wide Columbia's variegated coast,
From Fundy's fogs, and wild Acadia's frost;
With slack' ned nerves and dissipated bloom,
To gain a cure, a respite from the tomb:
The wasted sick to these pure isles repair,
T' inhale the sweetness of salubrious air;
Those hope to find a cooler clime, and these
A warmer sun-beam and a milder breeze.

Clad in her sylvan charms and sunny robe,
This island has no rival on the globe:

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Each taste may find a flavour sure to please;
Each eye a gay, a grateful colour sees;
Each constitution finds a healthful gale,
And flowers and cedar gratify each smell.
Could happiness from any spot arise,
These em’rald islands might dispute the prize ;
The morn is fragrant, and when night has drawn
Her sable curtain over hill and lawn;
And from the east the full orb'd moon appears,
The blazing planets and the twinkling stars;
The dark tall cedar's spiry tops are seen,
In vivid brightness gold and smiling green:
But when from heaven's higher arch she pours
A flood of glory on the sparkling shores.
The placid-ocean dazzled with her rays,
Seems liquid gold, so bright the water blaze!
A thousand beauties burst upon the sight !
And the whole landscape glitters with delight!

Thus nature charms, till fierce solstitial rays,
From Leo, or Intensor Virgo blaze;
Then flaming heat with rage unrival'd pours,
Along the scorched hills and rocky shores,
And spreads a dismal arid waste around,
Shrivels the plants and burns the thirsty ground.

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C

And now, unless the mellow clouds distil,
Their humed stores, on garden, grove, and hill,
Man's purest beverage would surely fail,
And mad’ning thirst alike o'er all prevail.
For here no rivers pour their chrystal tide!
No fountains rise, no lucid currents glide !
No gushing torrents down the mountains foam!
No weedy brooks along the vallies roam !
But every house adown its sloping sides,
A ridge to guide the pouring rain provides;
Around the eaves the eager waters flow,
By spouts conducted to the tanks below;
For seldom do the bounteous skies refuse.
Their grateful showers, or night-refreshing dews;
Hence every month through all the annual round,
Or loads the tree, or paints th' enamel'd ground.
Yet ’midst thy many beauties, lovely Isle,
Where ceaseless Spring, and constant Summers smile;
Amidst thy healthful clime, and soften'd gales,
Thy cedar hills, and sun-illumin'd vales;
Abhor'd oppression with her gorgon face,
The
scourge

and terror of the sable race; Spurns at the native rights of free-born men, And binds the negro with her seven-fold chain :