I shook the drops from my face, and there were the sweet stars once more; for many an eye they had gone Out for ever; and there the burning wreck.
A man floundered near me, in a splutter of phosphorescence.

I tried to help him, and in an instant he had me wildly round the neck.

In the end I shook him off, poor devil, to his death.

And he was the last I tried to aid: have I not said already what I was become?
In a little an oar floated my way: I threw my arms across it and gripped it with my chin as I swam.

It relieved me greatly.