REFLECTIONS ON THE CROSS OF ST. PAUL'S. 365

XX.

The wild gull, sailing overhead,
Three times beheld emerge

The head of that bold mariner,
And then she screamed his dirge!
For he had sunk within his grave,
Lapp'd in a shroud of surge!

XXI.

The ensuing wave, with horrid foam,
Rush'd o'er and cover'd all,-

The jolly boatman's drowning scream
Was smother'd by the squall,-
Heaven never heard his cry, nor did
The ocean heed his caul.

MORAL REFLECTIONS ON THE CROSS OF ST. PAUL'S.

THE man that pays his pence, and
Up to thy lofty cross, St. Paul,
Looks over London's naked nose,
Women and men :

goes

The world is all beneath his ken,

He sits above the Ball.

He seems on Mount Olympus' top,

Among the Gods, by Jupiter! and lets drop
His eyes from the empyreal clouds

On mortal crowds.

Seen from these skies,

How small those emmets in our eyes!
Some carry little sticks-and one

His eggs-to warm them in the sun :
Dear! what a hustle

And bustle!

366 REFLECTIONS ON THE CROSS OF ST. PAUL'S.

And there's my aunt. I know her by her waist,

So long and thin,

And so pinch'd in,

Just in the pismire taste.

Oh! what are men?-Beings so small,

That, should I fall

Upon their little heads, I must

Crush them by hundreds into dust!

And what is life? and all its ages

There's seven stages!

Turnham Green! Chelsea! Putney! Fulham!
Brentford! and Kew!

And Tooting, too!

And oh ! what very little nags to pull 'em.
Yet each would seem a horse indeed,
If here at Paul's tip-top we'd got 'em ;
Although, like Cinderella's breed,

They're mice at bottom.

Then let me not despise a horse,

Though he looks small from Paul's high cross!

Since he would be,-as near the sky,

-Fourteen hands high.

What is this world with London in its lap?

Mogg's Map.

The Thames, that ebbs and flows in its broad channel?

A tidy kennel.

The bridges stretching from its banks?

Stone planks.

Oh me! hence could I read an admonition

To mad Ambition !

But that he would not listen to my call,

Though I should stand upon the cross, and ball!

THE DEMON-SHIP.

'TWAS off the Wash-the sun went down-the sea looked black

and grim,

For stormy clouds, with murky fleece, were mustering at the brim ; Titanic shades! enormous gloom!—as if the solid night

Of Erebus rose suddenly to seize upon the light!

It was a time for mariners to bear a wary eye,

With such a dark conspiracy between the sea and sky!

Down went my helm-close reef'd-the tack held freely in my hand

With ballast snug-I put about, and scudded for the land.
Loud hiss'd the sea beneath her lee-my little boat flew fast,
But faster still the rushing storm came borne upon the blast.
Lord! what a roaring hurricane beset the straining sail!
What furious sleet, with level drift, and fierce assaults of hail!
What darksome caverns yawn'd before! what jagged steeps be-

hind!

Like battle-steeds, with foamy manes, wild tossing in the wind.
Each after each sank down astern, exhausted in the chase,
But where it sank another rose and gallop'd in its place;

As black as night-they turned to white, and cast against the cloud

:

A snowy sheet, as if each surge upturn'd a sailor's shroud :-
Still flew my boat; alas! alas! her course was nearly run!
Behold yon fatal billow rise—ten billows heap'd in one!
With fearful speed the dreary mass came rolling, rolling, fast,
As if the scooping sea contain'd one only wave at last!
Still on it came, with horrid roar, a swift pursuing grave;

It seem'd as though some cloud had turn'd its hugeness to a wave!
Its briny sleet began to beat beforehand in my face-

I felt the rearward keel begin to climb its swelling base!

I saw its alpine hoary head impending over mine!

Another pulse-and down it rush'd-an avalanche of brine!
Brief pause had I, on God to cry, or think of wife and home;

The waters closed-and when I shriek'd, I shriek'd below the

foam!

Beyond that rush I have no hint of any after deed-
For I was tossing on the waste, as senseless as a weed.

"Where am I? in the breathing world, or in the world of death?”
With sharp and sudden pang I drew another birth of breath;
My eyes drank in a doubtful light, my ears a doubtful sound—
And was that ship a real ship whose tackle seem'd around?
A moon, as if the earthly moon, was shining up aloft;

But were those beams the very beams that I had seen so oft?
A face, that mock'd the human face, before me watch'd alone;
But were those eyes the eyes of man that look'd against my own?

Oh! never may the moon again disclose me such a sight
As met my gaze, when first I look'd, on that accursed night!
I've seen a thousand horrid shapes begot of fierce extremes
Of fever; and most frightful things have haunted in my dreams—
Hyenas-cats-blood-loving bats—and apes with hateful stare—
Pernicious snakes, and shaggy bulls-the lion, and she-bear-
Strong enemies, with Judas looks, of treachery and spite—
Detested features, hardly dimm'd and banish'd by the light!
Pale-sheeted ghosts, with gory locks, upstarting from their tombs—
All phantasies and images that flit in midnight glooms-
Hags, goblins, demons, lemures, have made me all aghast,—
But nothing like that GRIMLY ONE who stood beside the mast!

His cheek was black-his brow was black-his eyes and hair as

dark:

His hand was black, and where it touch'd, it left a sable mark;
His throat was black, his vest the same, and when I look'd beneath,
His breast was black-all, all was black, except his grinning teeth.
His sooty crew were like in hue, as black as Afric slaves!
Oh, horror! e'en the ship was black that plough'd the inky waves!

"Alas!" I cried, "for love of truth and blessed mercy's sake, Where am I? in what dreadful ship? upon what dreadful lake?

What shape is that, so very grim, and black as any coal?
It is Mahound, the Evil One, and he has gain'd my soul !
Oh, mother dear! my tender nurse! dear meadows that beguil'd
My happy days, when I was yet a little sinless child,—
My mother dear-my native fields, I never more shall see:
I'm sailing in the Devil's Ship, upon the Devil's Sea!"

Loud laugh'd that SABLE MARINER, and loudly in return
His sooty crew sent forth a laugh that rang from stem to stern-
A dozen pair of grimly cheeks were crumpled on the nonce—
As many sets of grinning teeth came shining out at once:

A dozen gloomy shapes at once enjoy'd the merry fit,

With shriek and yell, and oaths as well, like Demons of the Pit. They crow'd their fill, and then the Chief made answer for the

whole ;

"Our skins," said he, "are black ye see, because we carry coal; You'll find your mother sure enough, and see your native fields— For this here ship has pick'd you up-the Mary Ann of Shields!"

MARY'S GHOST.

A PATHETIC BALLAD.

I.

"TWAS in the middle of the night,
To sleep young William tried,
When Mary's ghost came stealing in,
And stood at his bed-side.

II.

O William dear! O William dear!

My rest eternal ceases;

Alas! my everlasting peace

Is broken into pieces.

2 A