THE CAPE OF STORMS.

O Cape of Storms! although thy front be dark, And bleak thy naked cliffs and cheerless vales, And perilous thy fierce and faithless gales To staunchest mariner and stoutest bark; And though along thy coasts with grief I mark The servile and the slave, and him who wails An exile’s lot—and blush to hear thy tales Of sin and sorrow and oppression stark:— Yet, spite of physical and moral ill, And after all I’ve seen and suffered here, There are strong links that bind me to thee still, And render even thy rocks and deserts dear; Here dwell kind hearts which time nor place can chill— Loved kindred and congenial friends sincere. Thomas Pringle, 1825.