Maria, wafted o’er the surging deep,
Her varied burden bore—but chiefly those
Of cheerful spirits flush’d with the high hopes
Of quickly meeting welcomes to their homes,
From anxious waiting friends,—one lover, there,
Rejoices soon his dear betrothed to meet:
Ah! what fond raptures makes his bosom beat
At such a thought: who could suppose
Untimely Fate then stared them in the face?—
Benighted and deceived Maria roams
Far from her tract—then struck, with awful sweep,
On Terawiti’s rock!—A moment’s scope
Was scarcely theirs to breath salvation’s prayer,
Till all, save two, one watery grave had shared.