Yet rest, ye wanderers of the deep; Those fleshless arms, whose pulses leap Sleep on; and when the morning light O think of those for whom the night O. W. HOLMES. A MORNING SCENE. AMID the rosy fog stole in and out The little boat; the rower dipped his oar, Gleaming with liquid gold; and all about The red-sailed ships went swimming from the shore. Against the canvas, moving to and fro, The dark forms of the fishermen were seen; The sea-gulls wheeled around the rocky cape, And skimmed their long wings lightly o'er the flood ; The fog rose up in many a spectral shape, And crept away in silence o'er the wood. The sea, from silvery white to deepest blue, Changed 'neath the changing colors of the sky; The distant light-house broke upon the view, And the long land-point spread before the eye. Clear as a mirror lay the rock-bound cove; Far off, one blasted pine against the sky Lifted its scraggy form; the crow above Flapped his black wings, and wound his long shrill cry. I paced the beach like some sleep-waking child, SARAH C. E. MAYO. SUNRISE ON THE SEA-COAST. Ir was the holy hour of dawn: O sacred balm of summer dawn, When odors from the new-mown lawn Blend with the breath of sky and sea, Go up to Him who reigns above, Alone upon a rock I stood, I felt a deep, expectant hush Through nature, as the increasing flush The approach of some great spectacle, Lent glory to the victor's march; And when he flung his blazing glance Across the watery expanse, Methought, along that rocky coast, As on their snowy plumes the beams O Father! 'tis on Thee I call; With morning breezes from the shore Prevent the steps of life's last night! C. T. BROOKS. THE LIGHT-HOUSE. THE rocky ledge runs far into the sea, Even at this distance I can see the tides, Upheaving, break unheard along its base, A speechless wrath, that rises and subsides In the white lip and tremor of the face. And as the evening darkens, lo! how bright, Through the deep purple of the twilight air, Beams forth the sudden radiance of its light With strange, unearthly splendor in its glare! Not one alone; from each projecting cape And perilous reef along the ocean's verge, Starts into life a dim, gigantic shape, Holding its lantern o'er the restless surge. |