Embrailed each Top-sail, and by braces squar'd,
The Seamen climb aloft and man each Yard;
They furled the Sails, and pointed to the wind
The Yards, by rolling tackles then confin'd,
While o'er the Ship the gallant Boatswain flies;
Like a hoarse mastiff through the Storm he cries,
Prompt to direct th' unskilful still appears,
Th' expert he praises, and the timid cheers.
Now some, to strike Top-gallant-Yards attend,
Some, Trav'llers up the weather-back-stays send,
At each mast-head the Top-ropes others bend.
The Parrels, Lifts, and Clue-lines soon are gone,
Topped and unrigged, they down the back-stays run;
The Yards secure along the Booms were laid,
And all the flying ropes aloft belay'd.
Their Sails reduced, and all the rigging clear,
Awhile the Crew relax from toils severe;
Awhile their spirits with fatigue opprest,
In vain expect th' alternate hour of rest--
But with redoubling force the Tempests blow,
And watery hills in dread succession flow:
A dismal shade o'ercasts the frowning Skies,
New troubles grow; fresh difficulties rise;
No season this from duty to descend,
All hands on deck must now the Storm attend.
His race performed, the sacred Lamp of day
Now dipt in western clouds his parting ray:
His languid fires, half lost in ambient haze,
Refract along the dusk a crimson blaze;
Till deep immerged the sickening orb descends,
And cheerless Night o'er Heaven her reign extends.
Sad Evening's hour, how different from the past!
No flaming pomp, no blushing glories cast,
No ray of friendly light is seen around;
The Moon and Stars in hopeless shade are drown'd.
The Ship no longer can whole courses bear,
To reef them now becomes the Master's care;
The Sailors summoned aft all ready stand,
And man th' enfolding Brails at his command:
But here the doubtful Officers dispute,
Till skill, and judgment, prejudice confute:
For RODMOND, to new methods still a foe,
Would first, at all events, the Sheet let go;
To long-tried practice obstinately warm
He doubts conviction, and relies on form.
This ALBERT and ARION disapprove,
And first to brail the tack up firmly move: "The watchful Seaman, whose sagacious eye "On sure experience may with truth rely, "Who from the reigning Cause foretels th' Effect, "This barbarous practice ever will reject;
For, fluttering loose in air, the rigid Sail "Soon flits to ruins in the furious Gale; "And he, who strives the Tempest to disarm, "Will never first embrail the lee Yard-Arm." So ALBERT spoke; to windward, at his call, Some Seamen the clue-garnet stand to haul— The Tack's eased off; while the involving Clue Between the pendent blocks ascending flew; The Sheet and weather-brace they now stand by, The lee clue-garnet, and the bunt-lines ply: Then, all prepared, Let go the Sheet! he criesLoud rattling, jarring, through the blocks it flies! Shivering at first, till by the Blast impelled
High o'er the lee yard-arm the Canvass swelled; By spilling-lines embraced, with brails confin'd, It lies at length unshaken by the wind.
The Foresail then secured with equal care,
Again to reef the Mainsail they repair;
While some above the Yard o'er-haul the tye,
Below, the down-haul Tackle others ply,
Jears, lifts and brails, a seaman each attends,
And down the mast its mighty Yard descends:
When lowered sufficient they securely brace,
And fix the rolling tackle in its place;
The reef-lines and their earings now prepared,
Mounting on pliant shrouds they man the Yard:
Far on th' extremes appear two able hands,
For no inferior skill this task demands-
To windward, foremost, young ARION strides,
The lee yard-arm the gallant Boatswain rides:
Each Earing to its Cringle first they bend,
The Reef-band then along the yard extend;
The circling Earings round th' extremes entwin'd,
By outer and by inner turns they bind;
The Reef-lines next from hand to hand received,
Through eyelet-holes and roban-legs were reeved;
The folding Reefs in plaits inrolled they lay,
Extend the worming lines, and ends belay.
Hadst thou, ARION! held the leeward post
While on the Yard by mountain billows tost,
Perhaps Oblivion o'er our tragic tale
Had then for ever drawn her dusky veil;
But ruling Heaven prolonged thy vital date,
Severer ills to suffer, and relate.
For, while aloft the order those attend
To furl the Mainsail, or on deck descend;
A Sea, up-surging with stupendous roll,
To instant ruin seems to doom the whole:
O friends, secure your hold! ARION cries-
It comes all dreadful! down the Vessel lies
Half buried sideways; while, beneath it tost,
Four Seamen off the lee yard-arm are lost:
Torn with resistless fury from their hold,
In vain their struggling arms the Yard enfold;
In vain to grapple flying ropes they try,
The Ropes, alas! a solid gripe deny:
Prone on the midnight Surge with panting breath
They cry for aid, and long contend with Death; High o'er their heads the rolling Billows sweep, And down they sink in everlasting sleep
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