A thought resigned with pain, when from the mast
The impatient mariner the sail unfurled, 355
And, whistling, called the wind that hardly curled
The silent sea. From the sweet thoughts of home
And from all hope I was for ever hurled.
For me--farthest from earthly port to roam
Was best, could I but shun the spot where man might come. 360


XLI

"And oft I thought (my fancy was so strong)
That I, at last, a resting-place had found;
'Here will I dwell,' said I, 'my whole life long, [41]
Roaming the illimitable waters round;
Here will I live, of all but heaven disowned, 365
And end my days upon the peaceful flood.'--[42]
To break my dream the vessel reached its bound;
And homeless near a thousand homes I stood,
And near a thousand tables pined and wanted food.


XLII

"No help I sought; in sorrow turned adrift, 370
Was hopeless, as if cast on some bare rock; [43]
Nor morsel to my mouth that day did lift,
Nor raised [44] my hand at any door to knock.
I lay where, with his drowsy mates, the cock
From the cross-timber of an out-house hung: 375