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Shall I become the man I was before

Those wicked monkeys climbed aboard my raft,

Absolve myself of wrath, and turn to port,

Reverse the deaths by whirlpool, cannon blast,

Pizzaro’s face behold, then bend my knee

To King and Queen and Spain, all those I spurn?

O, hold a moment, lock this pedigree,

Remember I was once so true, unturned,

My shining, beaten helmet silver proud

And, weapons cleaned of conquered blood, I’d smile

Or sing the deathly cantos much too loud,

Yet sleep the blameless dream of crocodiles.

But soft, the hissing native arrows drown

The old sad song to die alone uncrowned.

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