Then The Ghastly Log-Book Told Them
How-In Some Accursed Clime,
Where The Breathless Land-Swell Rolled Them,
For An Endless Age Of Time -
Sudden Broke The Plague Among Them,
'Neath That Sullen Tropic Sun;
As If Fiery Scorpions Stung Them -
Died They Raving, One By One!
XIII.
- Told the vain and painful striving,
By shot-weighted shrouds to hide
(Last fond care), from those surviving,
What good comrade last had died;
Yet the ghastly things kept showing,
Waist deep in the unquiet grave -
To each other gravely bowing
On the slow swing of the wave!
XIV.
Eric's boat is near the landing -
From that dark ship bring they aught?
In the stern sheets ONE is standing,
Though their eyes perceive him not;
But a curdling horror creepeth
Thro' their veins, with icy darts,
And each hurried oar-stroke keepeth
Time with their o'er-labouring hearts!
XV.
Heavy seems their boat returning,
Weighted with a world of care!
Oh, ye blind ones - none discerning
WHAT the spectral freight ye bear.
Glad they hear the sea-beach grating
Harsh beneath the small boat's stem -
Forth they leap, for no man waiting -
But the BLACK DEATH LANDS WITH THEM.
XVI.
Viewless - soundless - stalks the spectre
Thro' the city chill and pale,
Which like bride, this morn, had decked her
For the advent of that sail.
Oft by Bergen women, mourning,
Shall the dismal tale be told,
Of that lost ship home returning,
With "THE BLACK DEATH" in her hold!
I would gladly dwell on the pleasures of my second visit
to Christiansund, which has a charm of its own, independent
of its interest as the spot from whence we really "start
for home." But though strange lands, and unknown or
indifferent people, are legitimate subjects for travellers'
tales, our FRIENDS and their pleasant homes are NOT; so
I shall keep all I have to say of gratitude to our
excellent and hospitable Consul, Mr. Morch, and of
admiration for his charming wife, until I can tell you
viva voce how much I wish that you also knew them.
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