Classic Poem

Bravely the ship sailed up from the south,
Bravely Point Judith she passed,
And furled her sails in the Bonnet's lee
Glad to be home at last.
And who would have guessed
Deep in her breast
Lay terror and death chained fast.

Gaily the Captain gave his commands
And shouted again and again,
Cast anchor, set watch, and then, all ashore
To see your sweethearts, my men!
But a wailing groan
And a bitter moan
Came up from the cruel slave pen.

A prosperous voyage of just thirty days
Across from the Guinea coast;
The rum was all gone, and very good trade,
Such was the proud Captain's boast.
He spoke not of the shark
That was fed after dark
And followed all day at his post.

So in the morning the owners came down,
Well pleased with the venture were they;
The good portly planters, and young Colonel Tom,
They all had plenty to say.
Rowland Robinson, too,
Saluted the crew,
A gentleman courtly and gay.

Then the ship was towed up close to the pier —
The pier that juts out by the ferry —
While they laughed and chatted, and were debonair
And swore that a good voyage 'twas — very!
Rowland Robinson gay
Was his bravest that day,
And made all the company merry.

And now the good ship was close up to the pier,
And the gentlemen gathered around,
And there she lay safely without any fear,
Her slender bow hard run aground.
And they undid the latches
And lifted the hatches,
And there rose a terrible sound.

And the light of the sun beheld the foul sight,
Close packed, between decks, there they lay,
And the only room they ever had had
Was when corpses were taken away.
Most ghastly the sight
When seen in the light
Of the sun that shone at midday.

Weak, starving, and feeble, and quaking with fear,
Naked, unable to stand,
Half dead, and wounded, and covered with filth,
The cargo was brought to the land.
And the laugh died away,
In the company gay,
As they saw that piteous band.

Rowland Robinson swore 'twas a sin and a shame;
His laughter rang gaily no more,
As he listened and looked with horrified gaze,
And worse terrors came than before;
And his curses were wild,
Then he sobbed like a child,
And his tears drowned the oaths that he swore.

And he took all his share, twenty-eight wretched souls,
And carried them home to his farm,
And had them well tended, and cured all their hurts
And kept them away from alarm.
And not one would he sell,
For he never could tell
If haply they 'd come to fresh harm.

Such deeds in our old Narragansett were done,
Such deeds, and few said them nay,
But those sudden tears of one honest man
Washed some of the foul sin away.
Rowland Robinson's name
Is free from all shame
For his hearty repentance that day.