Or bathe in brighter quietude A roamer of the deep. So far the peaceful soul of Heaven It seems as if this weight of calm Were from eternity. O world of waters! the steadfast earth Is she a vision wild and bright Ah no!-an earthly freight she bears, And lonely as she seems to be, Thus left by herself on a moonlight sea, In loneliness that rolls, She hath a constant company, In sleep or waking revelry, Since first she sailed from fair England, And sails as if the path she knew ; And well, glad vessel! mayst thou stem The tide with lofty breast, And lift thy queen-like diadem O'er these thy realms of rest: For a thousand beings, now far away, And hush their beating hearts to pray Oh! many a sigh pursued thy vanish'd sail : Thy wonted gleam to hail. For thou art laden with beauty and youth, With fathers who have left in a home of rest Their infants smiling at the breast; With children who have bade their parents farewell, Or who go to the land where their parents dwell. God speed thy course, thou gleam of delight! From rock and tempest clear; Till signal gun from friendly height Proclaim, with thundering cheer, To joyful groups on the harbour bright, That the good ship HOPE is near ! THE SHIP'S RETURN. BY JOHN WILSON. THE pier-head with a restless crowd The bells ring quick a joyous peal, Till the very spires appear to feel The joy that stirs throughout their tapering height. Abroad, like meteors in the sky, And, while the storm of pleasure raves What ship is she that rises slow Above the horizon-white as snow, And covered as she sails By the bright sunshine, fondly wooed In her calm beauty, and pursued Well doth she know this glorious morn,- As in triumphal pride: And now the gazing crowd descry, Her pendants long and wide. The outward forts she now hath passed; Of the billows rushing past her sides, Then up leap all her fearless crew, In peace and friendship doth she come, After absence long and far: Yet with like calmness would she go And break the line of war. REASONS FOR MIRTH. BY MISS MITFORD. THE sun is careering in glory and might The linnet is singing the wild wood through; The fawn's bounding footstep skims over the dew; The butterfly flits round the flower_tree ; And the cowslip and blue-bell are bent by the bee; All the creatures that dwell in the forest are gay And why should not I be as merry as they? |