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     Voices of agony and blood,
From ship-deck and from sea.
     The last dull plunge was heard,
The last wave caught its stain,
     And the unsated shark looked up
For human hearts in vain.

Red glowed the western waters,
     The setting sun was there,
Scattering alike on wave and cloud
     His fiery mesh of hair.
Amidst a group in blindness,
     A solitary eye
Gazed, from the burdened slaver's deck,
     Into that burning sky.

‘A storm,’ spoke out the gazer,
     “Is gathering and at hand;
Curse on 't, I'd give my other eye
     For one firm rood of land.”
And then he laughed, but only
     His echoed laugh replied,
For the blinded and the suffering
     Alone were at his side.

Night settled on the waters,
     And on a stormy heaven,
While fiercely on that lone ship's track
     The thunder-gust was driven.
‘A sail—thank God, a sail! ’
     And as the helmsman spoke,
Up through the stormy murmur
     A shout of gladness broke.

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