Chapter 33 No.33

"Hoist out the boat!" was now the leader's cry;

And who dare answer "No!" to Mutiny,

In the first dawning of the drunken hour,

The Saturnalia of unhoped-for power?

The boat is lowered with all the haste of hate,

With its slight plank between thee and thy fate;

Her only cargo such a scant supply

As promises the death their hands