THE LOST AT SEA

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THE LOST AT SEA.

BY J. O. ROCKWELL.

WIFE, who in thy deep devotion
Puttest up a prayer for one,
Sailing on the stormy ocean,

Hope no more-his course is done.
Dream not, when upon thy pillow,
That he slumbers by thy side
For his corse beneath the billow
Heaveth with the restless tide.

Children, who as sweet flowers growing,
Laugh amidst the sorrowing rains,
Know ye many clouds are throwing
Shadows on your sire's remains?
Where the hoarse gray surge is rolling
With a mountain's motion on,

Dream ye that its voice is tolling
For your father lost and gone?

When the sun looked on the water,
As a hero on his grave,
Tinging with the hue of slaughter

Every blue and leaping wave,

Under the majestic ocean,

Where the giant currents rolled,

Slept thy sire without emotion

Sweetly by a beam of gold.

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THE LOST AT SEA.

And the violet sunbeams slanted,
Wavering through the crystal deep,
Till their wonted splendors haunted
Those shut eyelids in their sleep.
Sands, like crumbled silver gleaming,
Sparkled through his raven hair;
But the sleep that knows no dreaming,
Bound him in its silence there.

So we left him; and to tell thee
Of our sorrow and thine own,
Of the wo that then befell thee
Come we weary and alone.
That thine eye is quickly shaded,
That thy heart blood wildly flows,
That thy cheek's clear hue is faded,
Are the fruits of these new woes.

Children whose meek eyes inquiring
Linger on your mother's face,
Know ye that she is expiring
That ye are an orphan race?
God be with you on the morrow,
Father, mother—both no more;
One within a grave of sorrow,
One upon the ocean's floor!

RETURNING A STOLEN RING

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RETURNING A STOLEN RING.

BY C. SHERRY.

WELL, lady, take again the ring,
To deck that lily hand of thine,
And with it take, the gift I bring,
To lay on beauty's golden shrine.

With every joy and pleasure gay,
May all thine hours roll swift along,
And life in beauty glide away,
Like the rich cadence of a song.

May friendship shed its gentle rays,
To make the path before thee bright;
And love serenely gild thy days,
With a more deep and brilliant light.

And in that future happy time,
Thine earlier friends perchance forgot,
Say wilt thou read this careless rnyme,
And him who wrote remember not?

Remember not! and can it be
That joyous memories ever die?
That all my heart can feel for thee
Is but a lightly whispered sigh?

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LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP.

Ay, it is written on our lot,

That lot so varied, dark and strange,
To meet, to pass and be forgot,
In painful and perpetual change.

But dash this idle gloom away,
And be again the gay and free;
Thou must not to thy dying day
Forget this stolen ring and me!

LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP.

BY WILLIAM LEGGETT.

THE birds, when winter shades the sky

Fly o'er the seas away,

Where laughing isles in sunshine lie,
And summer breezes play :

And thus the friends that flutter near
While fortune's sun is warm,

Are startled if a cloud appear,

And fly before the storm.

But when from winter's howling plains

Each other warbler 's past,

The little snow bird still remains,

And cherups midst the blast.

Love, like that bird, when friendship's throng

With fortune's sun depart,

Still lingers with its cheerful song,

And nestles on the heart.

STANZAS.

THE Voice of Spring! and blushing flowers
Lean trembling from their seats,

Wooing from sunbeams and from showers

A free exchange of sweets:

Blithe birds their matin notes prolong

Among the cottage vines:

And cottage children list the song—

Sweet incense to sweet shrines!
Loth to depart, the sunny stream,

Oft turning, glides away—

All things of Paradise the dream

To this dim spot convey.

Hearts! which the sweet affections bind

With nature's purest tie,

Where hope and faith are deeply shrined,

Too deeply, soon to die—

Ye love the season! pure as light,

Untired the spirits play:

Rich dreams are yours for coming night,

And richer still for day

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