There is no vestige, in the Dawning light,

Of those that shrieked thro' shadows of the Night.

The Bark—the Crew—the very Wreck is gone,

Marred—mutilated—traceless—all save one.

In him there still is Life, the Wave that dashed

On shore the plank to which his form was lashed,

Returned unheeding of its helpless Prey—

The lone survivor of that Yesterday—

The one of Many whom the withering Gale

Hath left unpunished to record their Tale.

But who shall hear it? on that barren Sand

None comes to stretch the hospitable hand.

That shore reveals no print of human foot,

Nor e'en the pawing of the wilder Brute;

And niggard vegetation will not smile,

All sunless on that solitary Isle.