CHAPTER XVII
The Third Cruise of the Wave
'Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean--roll!
Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain:
Man marks the earth with ruin--his control
Stops with the shore,--upon the watery plain
The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain
A shadow of man's ravage, save his own,
When for a moment, like a drop of rain
He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan,
Without a grave, unknell'd, uncoffin'd, and unknown.
BYRON, CHILDE HAROLD, IV 1603--11.
I had been invited to breakfast on board the corvette, on the morning
after this; and Captain Transom, Mr Bang, and myself, were comfortably
seated at our meal on the quarterdeck, under the awning, skreened off by
flags from the view of the men. The ship was riding to a small westerly
breeze, that was rippling up the bight. The ports on each quarter, as
well as the two in the stern, were open, through which we had an
extensive view of Port--au--Prince, and the surrounding country.
"Now, Transom," said our amigo Massa Aaron, "I am quite persuaded that
the town astern of us there must always have been, and is now,
exceedingly unhealthy. Only reflect on its situation; it fronts the
west, with the hot sickening afternoon's sun blazing on it every
evening, along the glowing mirror of the calm bight, under whose
influence the fat black mud that composes the beach must send up most
pestilent effluvia; while in the forenoon it is shut out from the
influence of the regular easterly sea--breeze, or trade--wind, by the
high land behind.
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