But the sea hath seasons sad and strange, The surge behind her rushing feet

FYTTE III.

"Now when his stand the chaplain took,—
He was a weak old man,-
So loud the grinding timbers shook,
So loud the wild sea ran,

Scarce could we hear, as from the book
The service he began:
"The resurrection and the life

I am,' the Lord hath said;

And he shall live who trusts in me,
Although that he be dead;
Whoso on me doth rest, in faith,
His life is ransomed !'

"And ever as the rite was read

More shrilly rang the gale;
And heavier rain, in torrents shed,
Hissed in the panting sail;
Thus few of all the words he said

Might o'er the din prevail.

"I know that my Redeemer, Christ, In heaven liveth aye ;

And he shall stand upon the earth

In the great Judgment-Day:
Yea, though the worms my dust consume,
As for this mortal clod,
Even in the flesh, I yet shall see
The presence of my God!'

"And when he breathed that holy word
The gust it raved so loud,
That further speech might none be heard,
So rattled sail and shroud :
Still we could see his thin lips stirred,
And oft his head he bowed.
"The burdened mainsail, smitten sore,
Strained wild at brace and sheet;
The climbing seas, with hoarser roar,
On the crushed bulwarks beat;
And, hissing, as the ship lay o'er,

High washed the corpse's feet.
"Great awe was ours, and whispering
spake

Each man to man around, That the great sea-snake lay in our wake, That laughs when fleets are drowned: The next brief lull, this sentence brake Through the vexed waters' sound: "When thy strong breath doth scatter them,

Even as a sleep they pass:
All suddenly they fall away,
And perish like the grass:

At morning, green it flourisheth :
Lo! ere the even-tide,
Its beauty falls before the sithe,
Is withered up and dried.'

"At once the gale uprose again :
It seemed, that instant still

Were breathing space for louder strain;
For, trumpet-voiced and shrill,
It came with such a gush of rain,
As though the ship must fill.

"Unheard, thenceforth, the chaplain read;
He had as well been dumb;

But we saw his face by the lamp o'er head,
And when the time was come,

He made a sign to cast the dead

Forth to its stormy tomb.

"Now, when the corpse to sea we gave,
Christ! through the pallid night,
Full on the ship a whirlwind drove,
So swift and full of might,

It swept the unburied from the wave,
And bore it from our sight!

"And the mariners gave a shuddering cry,
A cry of wild dismay,

To see the corpse pass whirling by,
Ere it could break the spray.-
For thus, they deemed, the Enemy
Had torn the child away.

"Short leisure, 'midst the storm's descent,
For awe or thought had we,

As straight, through sails and rigging rent,
Down gushed the dark green sea;
While reeled our ship, as though she meant
To founder by the lee.

"Beneath the varying shocks o'er-strained,
A quivering hulk she lay ;
The waves, like monsters fiery-maned,
Seemed gathering o'er their prey;
Lord! how the deafening gusts, unchained
On every side, did bray!

"We could not hear the Captain's shout,
Yet well we guessed the word,
As, hissing loud, the waterspout
Burst terribly on board,

And from its flash the light flew out
Keen as a flaming sword.

"We could not aid the good ship's toil;
For masterless, and crossed
By countless blows, at each recoil,
More helplessly she tossed:
We could but hear the mad sea boil,

And gave our lives for lost!

"But ere we drave ten fathoms wide,

After the corpse flew past,

The gale went down, and lulled, and died;
And the sea smoothed so fast,

That ere mid-watch, we seemed to glide
Across a waveless waste.

"And where the Eastern billows slept
In the moist starlight dim,
Uprose the loving moon, and pept
O'er the full ocean's brim ;-

And a faint murmur round us crept,
Sweet as a seraph's hymn.

"Then did our praise to Him who
wrought

That blessed calm, ascend;

But awe bechilled us, as we though t
Upon our parted friend;

Each questioned much, and answered

nought,

For none could counsel lend:

"Till up and spake the oldest mate,
And thus his rede was given ;—
For that child's soul the demon's hate
With Angel bands had striven;
Whose conquering wings up-bore it straight
In the wild storm to Heaven.'

"Howe'er it be, though well I deem,

The child is with the blest, That burial, like an ugly dream, For ever haunts my rest,

Though when I pray, there falls a beam
Of comfort on my breast.

"But none who mourn in churchyards
green,

Where the dead sleep pleasantly,
Can know what awe and sadness mean,
Or what stern death may be,
Till they have watched a funeral scene,
In the midnight gale, at sea!"

SOME LATE PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF JOHN BULL, ESQ. (Continued from Page 599, VOL. I.) CHAPTER VII.

Shewing how Bill Boswain lost his Breeches, and what came thereof; the Stramash in John's Family, and the Rumpus at the Mitre.

BILL BOSWAIN did not well remember how he tumbled into bed on the night of the hop, after the dismissal of Gaffer; but all night long he dreams of the 'Squire transformed into a bear in a rage; and of Gaffer and his Broom talking; and of the message he behoved to send in the morning. And then, that his wenches were frying the old dish, and Hookey standing by, staring at him like a mad doctor, using a horn to make him swallow it. The message to Gaffer, to say truth, was ready cut-and-dry, long before; though Bill, poor soul, might not know as much.

Late in the morning he rubs up his eyes, with something of a headache, and perhaps, something of a heartache too, if he had owned it; but he put the best face on the matter. "Where's my wife?" quoth

he.

"In the back parlour with Hookey, darning a stocking;" for it was always making a pudding or darning a stocking she was. This good housewife was never meddling with John's matters-not she! "Then bring me my breeches," quoth Bill.-But up or down, high or low, no such article was to be found. "Where's my breeches," shouted Bill, manfully; for his wife was now gone out to chapel. "What a spot of work is here," quoth that pert gipsy, Jenny Driver; "I daresay that rogue, H. B. has stolen them to make a picture of them, and they may be in Rag Fair by this time." "I'll have my breeches," cried Bill; "If the 'Squire hear of this-" "Sure you have no more need of such an article than a Highlander for kneebuckles," said the forward, saucy wench, whose shrewish, merry humour made her a great favourite with Bill; "A'n't you a brisk Jack tar, and shouldn't sport shorts. There's Hookey on the stairs: throw any thing on you for decency; and get up, and put that prig Gaffer out of his pain. Here's an old petticoat of my mistress's, and here's a wrap-rascal of -'s." It was impossible to make out the name; whether the last flourish was the up-swirled tail of an n or r, or the sweep of an e or d, no man could tell; and of which garment Bill availed himself, or if he donned both, history is mute; but up he got, in time to hear that his mes sage to Greysteel had caused a commotion in John's family, to which all that had ever happened before was mere moonshine in water;

and the beauty of it was, that Prince Rusty, and the Old Gentlewoman were now almost as anxious as John that Madam should be brought in, if that would only make peace in the house, so mortally afraid were they of Sister Peg, and Brummagem Tom.

Every Steel was on the alert, "All hands aloft" was the cry, and "Down with Hookey ;" and even Prince Rustyfusty himself seemed less hateful to them at this time than the old Drill. And ever and anon they would shout, "Bill Boswain has sold Madam !-sold her! and betrayed John Bull !" and every five minutes a fresh scout of the Rusty faction would bounce into Bill's parlour, which no Steel would now look near, and where neither Tims nor Chronie would be admitted, when they begged to tell Bill the rights of the story.

"Mrs. Bull, the vixen," cried one," is still insisting on keeping the keys." "Well, Moses will lend us a couple of pieces for a few days, to carry on the war," cried Hookey, nothing daunted yet; "I have thrown as much in his way before now.' But Moses "pegged the prave and callant Hookey would exquies de poor Cherman Chew, who was a stranger, and did not wish to meddle or make in 'Squire Pull's familish." Hookey, it is said, lent him a kick, made him bounce out at the window, where, in falling, he knocked down Old Bags, Mad Charley, and the Pettifogger, like as many nine pins set up for practice. But as a faithful and veracious historian, I must premise, that this part of my narrative is not authenticated, and that it is as like Hookey would have been sly enough to apply privately for funds to That Most Mighty and Potent, &c., &c., before trying a Jew money-lender. But to return.

"What next, goose-face?" cries the Old Corporal, as Silly Billy came in, blowing and puffing, Hookey's hands now as full of work as if there had been a grand cock-match next day; besides having all the wenches hanging on him. "Peg," cried Silly Billy," is coming striding up the North Wynd,* her petticoats kilted to the knee, laying about her with a rung,† her eyne like a wild-cat's, and Donald hard behind her, ettling at the Skien Dhu."

"Peg has been at her whisky bottle this morning," quoth the Raw Duckling; but had you seen the pair of black lucken brows Peg bent, when this was told her, ye might guess the reason Duckie was fain to sing dumb, and eat in these same. words of wisdom.

"Pat is whooping over the bog like a mad bull, flourishing his shille. lah, and swearing by the Poker to be the death of the Old Gentlewoman, and to break every bone in Hookey's body," said Derrydown Georgy, or Paddy Roddy, or some one or other of those spalpeens that had provoked Pat to this.

"What next, Gents.?" cried Hookey sulkily; and between hands he and the wenches were sending off gossoons and caddies to every quarter -to Sly Bob, to Chanticleer, to the Chuff, &c. &c. "What next, your honour? If this is not enough, there's Brummagem Tem, beating up, on his iron griddle, and all the hive gathering at his tail, brandishing Sheffield whittles, and swearing to make mince-meat of you." "The Devil they do," quoth Hookey, pretending still to be nothing daunted. 66 Peg and Tom are swearing a Solemn League and Covenant against you." Peg's heart jumped to her mouth when she heard of this Covenant.

* See Horne Tooke. The D of B———.

+ See Jamieson.
See his memorable speech on Cheap Whisky.