Farewell!-lest you may be in want of a black,

I leave with you Friday's old governor, Jack." The vile mutineers

Are affected to tears

By this tender appeal to their feelings and fears. We may easily guess

What deep thanks they express;

We may easily feel that they could n't do lessAt this noblest of offers;

Not merely his coffers,

His silver and gold, but the whole of his land-
His fixtures-royalties-rights of command!

In one feeling, of course, they must all be unanimous,
That there never was anything half so magnanimous;
And they fell on their knees, and 't is really distressing,
To see how they weep as he gives them his blessing!
Indeed, 't would be out of all question to tell
How deeply they feel at this painful farewell.
Now the Captain and Robinson get a-board ship
With Friday, who with them departs on their trip;
And when they have got off too far from the shore
For the sailors to hear their good-byes any more,
They still by significant gestures express

Their silent distress,

His foot in Great Britain, his liberty gets; Which induces him quickly to alter his track, And steer for some port,

Of West-Indian resort,

When, having sold Friday, once more he sets sail And arrives at Spithead with a prosperous gale, Just twenty-five years and one month from the day That he set sail from Hull, to his parents' dismay.

Once more settled down, Mr. Robinson spends
The rest of his days in the midst of his friends;
Though at first he finds Hull
Rather stupid and dull,

For his father is dead, to his very great grief,
And his mother supported on out-door relief;-
His feelings are shocked at the poor woman's pittance,
And into the workhouse he gets her admittance;
Where, lest she should still not have comforts enough,
He allows her a shilling a quarter for snuff.
He then prints his travels,
Which, spite of the cavils

Of critics, must always be relished by youth
And age, for their vigour, their freshness, and truth.
He lives at his ease,

On the profits of these,

His vote for the town, and whatever small trifle He chanced from the sailors' strong-boxes to rifle; Not forgetting the sum

He received for his chum

The excellent Friday. And thus free from strife, Without children or wife,

He

At leaving their friends in so precious a mess,—

passes serenely the eve of a life,

Which with so much adventure and peril was rife.