Who was her father? Had she a brother? Yet, than all other? Alas! for the rarity Home had she none! Sisterly, brotherly, Feelings had changed; When the lamps quiver The bleak wind of March Made her tremble and shiver But not the dark arch Or the black flowing river. Mad from life's history, In she plung'd boldly, Lave in it-drink of it Fashion'd so slenderly, Ere her limbs frigidly Smooth and compose them; Dreadfully staring Through muddy impurity, Perishing gloomily, Cross her hands humbly, Owning her weakness, Her evil behaviour, And leaving, with meekness, Her sins to her Saviour. (By permission of Messrs. Moxon and Co.) HOHENLINDEN. THOMAS CAMPBELL. [See page 216.] ON Linden when the sun was low, But Linden saw another sight, The darkness of her scenery. By torch and trumpet fast arrayed, To join the dreadful revelry. F F Then shook the hills with thunder riven, But redder yet that light shall glow, 'Tis morn, but scarce yon level sun Shout in their sulph'rous canopy. The combat deepens. On, ye brave, And charge with all thy chivalry! Few, few shall part where many meet! Shall be a soldier's sepulchre. THE WOMEN OF MUMBLES HEAD. CLEMENT W. SCOTT. [See p. 418.] BRING, novelists, your note-book! bring, dramatists, your pen! Of a terrible storm and shipwreck, that happened off Mumbles Maybe you have travelled in Wales, sir, and know it north and south; Maybe you are friends with the "natives" that dwell at Oystermouth! It happens, no doubt, that from Bristol you've crossed in a casual way, And have sailed your yacht in the summer in the blue of Swansea Bay. Well! it isn't like that in the winter, when the lighthouse stands alone, In the teeth of Atlantic breakers, that foam on its face of stone. It wasn't like that when the hurricane blew, or the storm-bell tolled, or when There was news of a wreck, and the lifeboat launch'd, and a desperate cry for men. When in the world did the coxswain shirk? a brave old salt was he! Proud to the bone of as four strong lads as ever had tasted the sea, Welshmen all to the lungs and loins, who about the coast, 'twas said, Had saved some hundred lives apiece-at a shilling or so a head! So the father launch'd the lifeboat, in the teeth of the tempest's roar, And he stood like a man at the rudder, with an eye on his boys at the oar. Out to the wreck went the father! out to the wreck went the sons! Leaving the weeping of women, and booming of signal guns, Leaving the mother who loved them, and the girls that the sailors love, Going to death for duty, and trusting to God above! Do you murmur a prayer, my brothers, when cosy and safe in bed, For men like these, who are ready to die for a wreck off Mumbles Head? It didn't go well with the lifeboat! 'twas a terrible storm that blew! And it snapped the rope in a second that was flung to the drowning crew; And then the anchor parted-'twas a tussle to keep afloat! But the father stuck to the rudder, and the boys to the brave old boat. Then at last on the poor doom'd lifeboat a wave broke mountains high! "God help us, now!" said the father. "It's over my lads. Good bye!" Half of the crew swam shoreward, half to the sheltered caves, waves. Up at a lighthouse window two women beheld the storm, It might be a grey-haired father, then the women held their breath, death; It might be a lover, a husband, whose kisses were on the lips in ships; They had seen the launch of the lifeboat, they had seen the worst, and more; Then, kissing each other, these women went down from the lighthouse, straight to shore. There by the rocks on the breakers these sisters, hand in hand, Beheld once more that desperate man who struggled to reach the land. 'Twas only aid he wanted, to help him across the wave, But what are a couple of women with only a man to save? What are a couple of women? Well, more than three craven men Who stood by the shore with chattering teeth, refusing to stir— and then Off went the women's shawls, sir; in a second they're torn and rent, Then knotting them into a rope of love, straight into the sea they went! "Come back," cried the lighthouse-keeper, "for God's sake, girls, come back!" As they caught the waves on their foreheads, resisting the fierce attack. "Come back!" moaned the grey-haired mother; as she stood by the angry sea, "If the waves take you, my darlings, there's nothing left to me." "Come back!" said the three strong soldiers, who still stood faint and pale, "You will drown if you face the breakers! you will fall if you brave the gale!" "Come back! town, said the girls, we will not, go tell it to all the We'll lose our lives, God willing, before that man shall drown!” 'Give one more knot to the shawls, Bess! give one strong clutch of your hand! Just follow me, brave, to the shingle, and we'll bring him safe to land! Wait for the next wave, darling, only a minute more, And I'll have him safe in my arms, dear, and we'll drag him safe to shore." Up to the arms in the water, fighting it breast to breast, They caught and saved a brother alive! God bless us, you know the rest Well, many a heart beat stronger, and many a tear was shed, (By permission of the Author.) THE FIREMAN'S WEDDING. W. A. EATON. ["The Fireman's Wedding," and one or two other pieces by this Author, have been popular on the platform for several years. They are certainly well adapted for oral delivery.] "WHAT are we looking at, guv'nor? Well, you see those carriages there? |