The thunder of the murderous gun -
The cut-throat crew--the Captain's curse -
The tempest blustering worse and worse -
These have I known and these can stand,
But you--I settle out of hand!'

Out flashed the cutlass, down went Ben
Dead and rotten, there and then.



Poem: II--THE BUILDER'S DOOM




In eighteen-twenty Deacon Thin
Feu'd the land and fenced it in,
And laid his broad foundations down
About a furlong out of town.

Early and late the work went on.
The carts were toiling ere the dawn;
The mason whistled, the hodman sang;
Early and late the trowels rang;
And Thin himself came day by day
To push the work in every way.
An artful builder, patent king
Of all the local building ring,
Who was there like him in the quarter