CXVI WATCHMAN, WHAT OF THE NIGHT? Say, watchman, what of the night? "The night is fast waning on high, But, watchman, what of the night, When sorrow and pain are mine, "That night of sorrow thy soul May surely prepare to meet ; But away shall the clouds of thy heaviness roll, But, watchman, what of the night When the arrow of death is sped, And the grave, which no glimmering star can light, Shall be my sleeping bed? "That night is near, and the cheerless tomb Shall keep thy body in store, Till the morn of eternity rise on the gloom, Anon. CXVII THE MARINER'S HYMN Launch thy bark, mariner! Christian, Heaven speed thee, Let loose the rudder bands! good angels lead thee! Set thy sails warily, tempests will come : Steer thy course steadily! Christian, steer home! Look to the weather bow, breakers are round thee ! Let fall the plummet now, shallows may ground thee! Reef in the fore-sail there! hold the helm fast! What of the night, watchman? what of the night? At an hour when all seems securest to thee. How-gains the leak so fast? clear out the hold, Hoist up thy merchandise-heave out the gold! There-let the ingots go! now the ship rights; Hurrah! the harbour's near,-lo the red lights. Slacken not sail yet at inlet or island, Straight for the beacon steer-straight for the high land; Crowd all thy canvass on, cut through the foam, Christian! cast anchor now: Heaven is thy home! C. Southey CXVIII MY PSALM I mourn no more my vanish'd years: An April rain of smiles and tears, The west winds blow, and singing low, No longer forward, nor behind, I plough no more a desert land I break my pilgrim staff, I lay The airs of spring may never play Nor freshness of the flowers of May Yet shall the blue-eyed gentian look The woods shall wear their robes of praise, The south wind softly sigh, And sweet calm days in golden haze Melt down the amber sky. Not less shall manly deed and word The graven flowers that wreathe the sword Enough that blessings undeserv'd Have mark'd my erring track, That more and more a Providence Making the springs of time and sense That death seems but a cover'd way, That care and trial seem at last, That all the jarring notes of life And so the shadows fall apart, 7. G. Whittier CXIX YOUTH AND AGE The seas are quiet when the winds are o'er, Clouds of affection from our younger eyes Stronger by weakness, wiser men become As they draw near to their eternal home; Waller |