Still this noble-hearted boy would not
disobey his father. In the face of blood, and balls, and fire, he
stood firm and obedient. The sailors began to desert the burning and
sinking ship, and the boy cried out "Father, may I go?" But no voice
of permission could come from the mangled body of his lifeless
father. And the boy, not knowing that he was dead, would rather die
than disobey. And there that boy stood, at his post, till every man
had deserted the ship; and he stood and perished in the flames. O,
what a boy was that! Every body who ever heard of him thinks that he
was one of the noblest boys that ever was born. Rather than disobey
his father, he would die in the flames. This account has been written
in poetry, and, as the children who read this book, may like to see
it, I will present it to them here:
CASABIANCA.
The boy stood on the burning deck,
Whence all but him had fled;
The flame that lit the battle's wreck,
Shone round him, o'er the dead.
Yet beautiful and bright he stood,
As born to rule the storm;
A creature of heroic blood,
A proud, though childlike form.
The flames rolled on; he would not go,
Without his father's word;
That father, faint in death below,
His voice no longer heard.
He called aloud--"Say, father, say
'If yet my task is done.'"
He knew not that the chieftain lay
Unconscious of his son.
"Speak, father," once again he cried,
"If I may yet be gone.
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