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When wearied with the tumult and occasional contention of the gun-deck of our frigate, I have often retreated to a port-hole, and calmed myself down by gazing broad off upon a placid sea. After the battle-din of the last two chapters, let us now do the like, and, in the sequestered fore-chains of the Neversink, tranquillise ourselves, if we may.

"From the smiling bays of Devonshire To the frowning cliffs of Filey, Leaps forth every son of an English sire, To fight for his native isley. He hath drawn the sword of his father now From the rusty sheath it rattled in; And Dobbin, who dragged the peaceful plough, Is neighing for the battle-din.

"The Ocean 'Pirate's' fiend-like form Shall sink beneath the vengeance-storm; His heart of steel shall quake before The battle-din and havoc roar: The knave shall die, the Law hath said, While it protects our own 'slave trade. "What earthly eye presumes to scan The wily Proteus-heart of man? What potent hand will e'er unroll The mantled treachery of his soul!

But of a truth the victory is to Menelaos dear to Ares; so let us take thought how these things shall be; whether once more we shall arouse ill war and the dread battle-din, or put friendship between the foes. Moreover if this were welcome to all and well pleasing, may the city of king Priam yet be an habitation, and Menelaos take back Helen of Argos."