"NOW!"-FRANCES RIDLEY HAVERGAL. A night of danger on the sea, Wave after wave comes thundering And a grim and gathering might, Well for the ships in the harbor now Well for the barque that reached at eve, But see! a faint and fitful light Out on the howling sea; 'Tis a vessel that seeks the harbor mouth, As in death-agony. Though the strong stone arms are open wide 'Tis all too late, for the storm drives fast, Nearer and nearer the barque is borne, Where sailors five are clinging fast Is it all too late? is there succor yet There are daring hearts and powerful arms And swift and steady feet, And they rush as down to a yawning grave, In the strong recoil of the mightiest wave, Treading that awful path to save As they trod a homeward street. Over the bowlders and foam they rush Into the ghastly hollow; They fling the rope to the heaving wreck. Reached, but not saved; there is more to do, And over the rage and over the roar There is a moment when the sea single shout the "Now!" peals out, For the rope is good, and the stout arms pull, It is but a swift and blinding sweep, Safe! though the fiend-like blast pursue; "There are but four drawn up to the shore, And five were on the deck!" And the straining gaze that conquers gloom, Still traces, drifting on to doom, One man upon the wreck. Again they chase in sternest race The far-recoiling wave; The rope is thrown to the tossing mark, But reaches not in the wind and dark The one they strive to save. Again they rush, and again they fail, The storm yells back defiance loud, The breakers rear a rampart proud, And roar, "In vain, in vain!" Then a giant wave takes up the wreck, One moment it hangs quivering there And the lonely man on the savage sea, Is clinging fast to the broken mast Then the horror of great darkness falls, Through that great blackness comes a crash The wave has burst upon the pier, LOVE ON THE HALF SHELL-PELEG ARKWRIGHT, A BALLAD OF OYSTER BAY. I ain't anybody in particular, I'm aware that my views doesn't signify But I'm heavy on openin' oysters→ To remark that for shellin' of Blue Points, Excuse my perfessional blowin', It's surprisin'-the fact is surprisin'- An impediment hinders my speakin' As an elocutin' perfessor My scholars would likely be few; 66 But she said, when I mentioned it to her, She isn't egzackly a beauty, But the eyes of that dear little cripple If she had been lively and hearty I couldn't have helped her, you see; And similar, then, it ain't likely That she would have took up with me; And I shouldn't have knowed her and loved her, And I wish that the whole of creation I was never so chirk and galloptious, THE GLASS RAILROAD.-GEORGE LIPPARD. It seemed to me as though I had been suddenly aroused from my slumber. I looked around and found myself in the centre of a gay crowd. The first sensation I experienced was that of being borne along, with a peculiar motion. I looked around and found that I was in a long train of cars which were gliding over a railway, and seemed to be many miles in length. It was composed of many cars. Every car, open at the top, was filled with men and women, all gayly dressed, and happy, and all laughing, talking, and singing. The peculiarly gentle motion of the cars interested me. There was no grating, such as we usually hear on the railroad. They moved along without the least jar or sound. This, I say, interested me. I looked over the side, and to my astonishment found the railroad and cars made of glass. The glass wheels moved over the glass rails without the least noise or oscillation. The soft gliding motion produced a feeling of exquisite happiness. I was happy! It seemed as if everything was at rest within-I was full of peace. While I was wondering over this circumstance, a new sight attracted my gaze. All along the road, within a foot of the track, were laid long lines of coffins on either side of the railroad, and every one contained a corpse dressed for burial, with its cold, white face turned upward to the light. The sight filled me with horror; I yelled in agony, but could make no sound. The gay throng who were around me only redoubled their singing and laughter at the sight of my agony, and we swept on, gliding on with glass wheels over the railroad, every moment coming nearer to the bend of the road, which formed an angle with the road far, far in the distance. "Who are those?" I cried at last, pointing to the dead in the coffins. "Those are the persons who made the trip before us," was the reply of one of the gayest persons near me. "What trip?" I asked. 'Why, the trip you are now making; the trip on this glass railway," was the answer. "Why do they lie along the road, each one in his coffin?" I was answered with a whisper and a half laugh which froze my blood: 'They were dashed to death at the end of the railroad," said the person whom I addressed. |