No more, no more Upbraids me with its loud uproar! My spirit lies Under the walls of Paradise! THE THE CHARNEL SHIP. HE night, the long, dark night, at last 'Mid crashing ice, and howling blast, Which broke to cheer the whaler's crew, And wide around its gray light threw. The storm had ceased; its wrath had rent And many a piercing glance they sent And sailor hearts their rude praise gave The breeze blew freshly, and the sun On heaps of icy fragments, won, Sad trophies, in the past night's war But lo! still farther off appears It hastens to them, by the breeze Near, and more near; and can it be, (More venturous than their own,) A ship, whose seeming ghost they see God of the mariner! protect Her inmates as she moves along, Through perils, which ere now had wrecked, Ha! she has struck! she grounds! she stands "Quick, man the boat!" Away they sprang, The stranger ship to aid, And loud their hailing voices rang, And rapid speed they made; But all in silence, deep, unbroke, The vessel stood; none answering spoke. 'Twas fearful! not a sound arose, No moving thing was there, To interrupt the dread repose Which filled each heart with fear. He was alone, the damp-chill mould While the pen within his hand had told The tale no voice might speak: "Seventy days," the record stood, "We have been in the ice, and wanted food!” They took his book, and turned away, But soon discovered where The wife, in her death-sleep, gently lay Near him in life most dear, Who, seated beside his young heart's pride, Oh, wedded love! how beautiful, How pure a thing thou art, Can cheer life's roughest walk, and shed There was a solemn, sacred feeling And, softly from the cabin stealing, The fair, the young, the constant pair, And to their boat returning, each The charnel ship, which, years before, Had sailed from distant Albion's shore. They left her in the icebergs, where Few venture to intrude, A monument of death and fear, 'Mid Ocean's solitude; And, grateful for their own release, Thanked God, and sought their homes in peace. THE SAILOR-BOY'S DREAM. N slumbers of midnight the sailor-boy, lay, IN His hammock swung loose at the sport of the wind; But, watch-worn and weary, his cares flew away, And visions, of happiness, danced o'er his mind. He dreamed of his home, of his dear native bowers, And pleasures that waited on life's merry morn; While memory stood sidewise, half-covered with flowers, And restored every rose, but secreted its thorn. The jessamine clambers in flower o'er the thatch, A father, bends o'er him with looks of delight, With the lips of the maid whom his bosom holds dear. The heart of the sleeper beats high in his breast, Ah! whence is that flame which now bursts on his eye? He springs from his hammock-he flies to the deck; Wild winds and mad waves drive the vessel a wreck, Like mountains the billows tumultuously swell; And the death-angel flaps his darks wings o'er the wave. O sailor-boy! woe to thy dream of delight! In darkness dissolves the gay frost-work of bliss; Where now is the picture that Fancy touched bright, Thy parent's fond pressure, and love's honeyed kiss? O sailor-boy! sailor-boy! never again Shall love, home, or kindred thy wishes repay ; Unblessed and unhonored, down deep in the main Full many a score fathom, thy frame shall decay. No tomb shall e'er plead to remembrance for thee, Or redeem form or frame from the merciless surge; But the white foam of waves shall thy winding-sheet be, And winds in the midnight of winter thy dirge. On beds of green sea-flower thy limbs shall be laid, Days, months, years, and ages shall circle away, HORATIUS AT THE BRIDGE. HE consul's brow was sad, and the consul's speech was low, And darkly looked he at the wall, and darkly at the foe. "Their van will be upon us before the bridge goes down; And if they once may win the bridge, what hope to save the town?" Then out spoke brave Horatius, the captain of the gate: In yon strait path a thousand may well be stopped by three. Now who will stand on either hand, and keep the bridge with me?" Then out spake Spurius Lartius - -a Ramnian proud was he— "Lo! I will stand at thy right hand, and keep the bridge with thee." And out spake strong Herminius-of Titian blood was he"I will abide on thy left side, and keep the bridge with thee." "Horatius," quoth the consul, "as thou sayest, so let it be.” And straight against that great array, forth went the dauntless three. |