Now all men beside seem to me like shadows,
I love you, Douglas, tender and true.

Stretch out your hand to me, Douglas, Douglas,
Drop forgiveness from heaven like dew,

As I lay my heart on your dead heart, Douglas,
Douglas, Douglas, tender and true.

Dinah Maria Mulock Craik.

TOM BOWLING.

ERE, a sheer hulk, lies poor Tom Bowling,

HERE,

The darling of our crew;

No more he'll hear the tempest howling,

For death has broached him to.
His form was of the manliest beauty;

His heart was kind and soft;
Faithful below, he did his duty;
But now he's gone aloft.

Tom never from his word departed,

His virtues were so rare;

His friends were many and true-hearted;

His Poll was kind and fair.

-

And then he'd sing so blithe and jolly, -
Ah, many 's the time and oft!
But mirth is turned to melancholy,
For Tom is gone aloft.

Yet shall poor Tom find pleasant weather,

When He, who all commands,

Shall give, to call life's crew together,

The word to pipe all hands.

Thus Death, who kings and tars despatches,
In vain Tom's life has doffed;

For, though his body 's under hatches,

His soul is gone aloft.

Charles Dibdin.

VOL. XV.

When hearts whose truth was proven,
Like thine, are laid in earth,
There should a wreath be woven
To tell the world their worth;

And I, who woke each morrow
To clasp thy hand in mine,

8

Now all men beside seem to me like shadows, -
I love you, Douglas, tender and true.

Stretch out your hand to me, Douglas, Douglas,
Drop forgiveness from heaven like dew,
As I lay my heart on your dead heart, Douglas,
Douglas, Douglas, tender and true.

Dinah Maria Mulock Craik.

H

TOM BOWLING.

ERE, a sheer hulk, lies

The darling of our crew;

No more he'll hear the tempest howling,

For death has broached him to.
His form was of the manliest beauty;

His heart was kind and soft;
Faithful below, he did his duty;
But now he's gone aloft.

Tom never from his word departed, —

His virtues were so rare;

His friends were many and true-hearted;

His Poll was kind and fair.

And then he'd sing so blithe and jolly, -
Ah, many 's the time and oft!
But mirth is turned to melancholy,
For Tom is gone aloft.

Yet shall poor Tom find pleasant weather,

When He, who all commands,

Shall give, to call life's crew together,

The word to pipe all hands.

Thus Death, who kings and tars despatches,
In vain Tom's life has doffed;

For, though his body 's under hatches,

His soul is gone aloft.

Charles Dibdin.

VOL. XV.

JOSEPH RODMAN DRAKE.

REEN be the turf above thee,
Friend of my better days!
None knew thee but to love thee,
Nor named thee but to praise.

Tears fell, when thou wert dying,
From eyes unused to weep,
And long, where thou art lying,
Will tears the cold turf steep.

When hearts whose truth was proven,
Like thine, are laid in earth,
There should a wreath be woven
To tell the world their worth;

And I, who woke each morrow
To clasp thy hand in mine,

8

Who shared thy joy and sorrow,
Whose weal and woe were thine,

It should be mine to braid it

Around thy faded brow,
But I've in vain essayed it,
And feel I cannot now.

While memory bids me weep thee,
Nor thoughts nor words are free,

The grief is fixed too deeply

That mourns a man like thee.

Fitz-Greene Halleck.

SHE IS FAR FROM THE LAND.

HE is far from the land where her young hero sleeps,

SHE

And lovers are round her sighing;

But coldly she turns from their gaze, and weeps,
For her heart in his grave is lying!

She sings the wild songs of her dear native plains,
Every note which he loved awaking;

Ah! little they think, who delight in her strains,
How the heart of the minstrel is breaking!

He had lived for his love, for his country he died,
They were all that to life had entwined him;
Nor soon shall the tears of his country be dried,
Nor long will his love stay behind him.