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The following piece of poetry from Miss Gould, was prepared for the “Winter-green,”
for 1844. From what we have seen of the Annual, we think it will make a rich present for the coming new year. It is for sale by Collins, Brothers & Co. New. York. And by Thomas, Cowperthwaite, & Co. Philadelphia.
THE MARINER’S ORPHAN.
BY HANNAH F. GOULD.
That cold, faithless moon looking down on the wave!
How dark grows my heart with her beaming!
While tears drown my sight in their streaming.
For there lies my father, down, down in the deep,
V'erwhelmed by the black, heavy billow!
Where damp clods of earth are her pillow.
How oft did she kneel, when that moon from above
Hung mild o er a calm, sparkling ocean,
To Him of her evening devotion !
And when into clouds all their brightness was cast,
With looks full of wo and imploring,
And prayed while the tempest was roaring.
Then pale at the noise of the storm and the sea,
While tears rolled as crystal-drops shining,
Her trembling to stay by their twining.
But, oh! when they told her the whole fatal tale,
By silence her anguish was spoken ;
Then sunk! for her heart-strings had broken:
And since, when I see the bright moon beaming clear,
With stars gathered thickly around her,
To light the frail bark that must founder.
The sound of the waves as they die on the shore,
It fills me with sadness and sighing ;
They show me a mother when dying.
Fer the Mother's Magazine.
THE HABIT OF PRAYER.
BY HARVEY NEWCOMB.
In a recent number of the Magazine, several questions, propounded at the meetings of the London Maternal Association, were published, with the request that some of your contributers would furnish communications on the subjects to which they relate. Among them was this: “Ought children to be required to maintain their regular seasons of prayer; or, should the duty be