THE STRANDED BARK AND THE LIFE-BOAT. SHE strikes, and she reels, and her high towering mast, Like the forest oak, bends in the hurricane-blast; And the billows, whose awful tops seen in the clouds, Dash high o'er the wretches that fly to her shrouds. Again she hath struck, and the turbulent air Is filled with wild horror, and shrieks of despair: Few moments must free her from breakers and spray, Or entomb them in ocean for ever and aye. Like a sunbeam by day, and a meteor by night, Now twines round her topmast (how changed since the morn!) Or, piecemeal the sport of the tempest, is torn. storm; And that spirit, which makes them in danger more brave, Only rose with the scene; on the tempest-tost wave They launched their light bark, and, in gallant array, Dashed from shore, with a true hearty British huzza. Far, far as the eye of the gazer could roam There was nothing but breakers and billows of foam; One moment she seemed in the boiling surge lost, The next, we beheld her still struggling, but tost At the merciless power of the deep booming sea; But still forward she kept on her perilous trackOh, sailor-boy! sailor-boy! many for thee Are the sighs and the tears that will welcome thee back. Now high o'er the billows majestic she rides, Or entomb them for ever beneath the dark wave; The gazers' applause, as the life-boat steered round them. found them, But who shall describe the poor rescued, or tell With what feelings these greater than conquerors [fell; As half naked, half dead, from the rigging they Or lifelessly sunk on their foreheads, as though The last torment was past-drained the last cup of woe; And now, with the shipwrecked and destitute crew, O'er the wild waste of waters their toil they renew; The billows are foaming around them, and loud, Like the roar of artillery, the tempest-charged cloud Breaks o'er them in thunder; still o'er the dark sea They push their light bark in its perilous trackOh, sailor-boy! sailor-boy! many for thee Are the sighs and the tears that will welcome thee back. P The sea-gull flew wildly and mournfully round, On the tiptoe of hope and of fear we beheld, But at length, in smooth water we saw her safe moored: And what was the boon for the danger endured? Avaunt, selfish hearts! what at first had inspired Brought its own bright reward, all the boon they desired; "Twas enough to have saved, from the jaws of the grave, Hearts that beat like their own, true, undaunted, and brave. THE RAINBOW. ANON. THE evening was glorious, and light through the trees Played the sunshine and rain-drops, the birds and the breeze; The landscape, outstretching in loveliness, lay For the queen of the spring, as she pass'd down the vale, Left her robe on the trees, and her breath on the gale; And the smile of her promise gave joy to the hours, And flush in her footsteps sprang herbage and flowers. The skies, like a banner in sunset unroll'd, O'er the west threw their splendour of azure and gold; But one cloud at a distance rose dense, and increased, Till its margin of black touch'd the zenith and east. We gazed on the scenes, while around us they glow'd, Like a spirit, it came in the van of a storm! In the hues of its grandeur sublimely it stood 'Twas the bow of Omnipotence; bent in His hand, Not dreadful, as when in the whirlwind he pleadsWhen storms are his chariot, and lightnings his steeds The black clouds his banner of vengeance unfurl'd, And thunder his voice to a guilt-stricken world ; In the breath of his presence, when thousands expire, And seas boil with fury, and rocks burn with fire, And the sword, and the plague-spot, with death strew the plain, And vultures, and wolves, are the graves of the slain ; Not such was that rainbow, that beautiful one! Awhile, and it sweetly bent over the gloom, I gazed not alone on that source of my song: Like a visit the converse of friends-or a day, 'Tis a picture in memory distinctly defined With the strong and imperishing colours of mind: A part of my being beyond my control, Beheld on that cloud, and transcribed on my soul. CAMPBELL. London: J. Rider, Printer, 14, Bartholomew Closc. 23 |